“Fuck no.”
“Please.”
“Ain’t leavin’ your side, babe. Not for him, not for nobody.”
“Not sure what happened to you, Kiki. Not sure when you changed from appreciating class to liking a... a... thug. One with a record, too.” He leaned closer to the bed and reached for her hand.
Kiki swore Hawk growled.
Landon’s eyes flicked up for a second then back to her, but this time he didn’t try to touch her. “I worry about you. I want you to come home with me when you get released. I’ll take care of you. Make sure you get everything you need to get well.”
“Landon,” she began, not sure why he was offering this. Well, she knew why, he was trying to make up for his past transgression, or transgressions. For all she knew, Karin might not have been the only one. She never asked nor did she want to know. But all that was water under the bridge now.
She wasn’t going home with Landon; she would never even consider it. “I’ll be fine. I don’t need anyone nursing me back to health. The only thing broken is my ribs. Bruises will fade, the swelling will lessen—”
“Memories won’t fade,” he reminded her.
“In time,” she said, hoping that was true.
“Not when you see a reminder every day.”
He meant Hawk. The tension in the room swirled around her and became heavy to the point it felt like a hand gripped her throat. Landon needed to go.
A noise at the open door of her room made everyone’s attention land in that direction. A cop stood there, almost as tense as the other two men in the room. His hand rested loosely on the butt of his gun, which was safely tucked away in its holster, thank goodness. But it was a clear reminder of who was now the authority in the room.
“Hawk,” the officer grumbled with a slight chin lift.
“Mitch,” Hawk grumbled back, returning the not-quite-friendly chin lift.
“You know him?” Kiki asked.
“Used to be Z’s father.”
“Used to be?” Kiki repeated, confused.
“Yeah,” Hawk grunted. “Now he’s just a pig like the rest of ‘em. Family don’t gotta be blood.”
“Once again,” Landon cut in. “I will point out that he doesn’t even know how to speak English, Kiki. Jesus.”
Hawk’s gaze swung from the cop back to Landon. “She understood me. ‘Nough talkin’. She ain’t goin’ with you, so get gone.”
“Kiki,” Landon pleaded.
“He’s right, Landon, I’m not going home with you. I appreciate you coming and caring enough to offer, but it’s not going to happen.”
Landon frowned. “You’re making a mistake.”
Kiki stared at Hawk for a heartbeat, then two as she weighed Landon’s words. “I’ll risk it,” she finally murmured.
She noticed every tight muscle in Hawk’s body loosen, his eyes soften as he looked at her, and his nostrils flare as he sucked in a breath.
Oh good lord. She was laid up in a hospital bed and all she could think about was when she would see his tattooed body naked next. Crazy.
“I’m guessing you should leave now,” this cop, Mitch, directed at Landon.
Landon nodded. “Fine. Kiki, you have my number. Call me if you need anything.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “Even if to escape.”
“Jesus fuck,” Hawk growled.
Landon raised his palms in surrender and weaved his way around Hawk and then Mitch as he left the room.
Kiki’s eyes went from the empty doorway to Mitch, who now stood just inside the door, his gaze steady on Hawk.
“Need to ask her questions, Hawk.”
“So ask.”
“Need you to step out.”
“Ain’t doin’ it.”
Mitch’s eyes got hard. “Not asking.”
Hawk stared back at the officer, his eyes just as hard, but then after a moment he dropped them to Kiki. “You good?”
She bit back a smile at how protective he was being. “Yes, I’m sure I’ll be fine with Zak’s father who is a cop.”
Hawk grunted, scrubbed a hand over his mohawk and then crowded the bed to lean down and press a kiss to the top of her forehead. A portion not covered in bandages. “Be right outside the door.”
“I’m sure you will,” she murmured.
On his way out, Hawk stopped in front of Mitch. Kiki couldn’t see either of their faces, but something certainly went unsaid. Then he walked out and shut the door firmly behind him.
“So, Zak’s brother and father are police officers. I find that interesting.”
Mitch stepped closer to the bed and Kiki could see where Zak got his looks. And his hip swagger. “It was just how the chips fell.”
“Like the chips off your shoulders?”
Something flashed through Mitch’s eyes as he stayed silent for a moment, studying her. “Not here to talk about me or my sons. I’m here on official business.”
“You need to ask me questions,” Kiki stated since it was obvious as he pulled a long, thin notebook out of his back pocket and slipped a pen from the front shirt pocket of his uniform.
“Are you up for it?”
She was surprised he even bothered to ask. Being a defense attorney, she wasn’t the biggest fan of law enforcement. She respected them for the most part, but in the years she’d been practicing, she’d met a few that should have never graduated from the police academy. They’d say or do anything for their charges to stick.
In the courtroom, she and the cops had a tenuous relationship since they were on the opposite sides of the room.
“I’ll do what I can to help,” she murmured finally.
“Before we start... Can I ask you what you’re doing involved with the club?”
“It’s not obvious?”
He tapped his pen against the cover of his notepad. “I’ve watched them all grow up. Maybe more from a distance than I should have. But I’ve known Hawk and Diesel since they were born. I’ve seen the men they’ve become. Not saying what they’ve become is good or bad, but...”
“Your son is one of them,” she reminded him needlessly.
“Yes.” He took a deep breath. “He is. He also did ten years at SCI Fayette. Not a proud moment for a father.”
“You know he was set up, right?” Kiki knew it because when her boss handed over the files for the club, she had read through them all. Tom wasn’t the one who had originally defended Zak, it was another attorney the club fired after the trial, but Tom had taken on the appeal, which they unfortunately had lost. But all the evidence Kiki could see showed that he was set up by another club. Namely the Warriors. The bad blood between the two clubs ran long, hard and deep.
She and Hawk had laid in bed one night and Hawk had talked about Z, who he was close with, and everything the former club president had endured being accused, arrested and convicted of a crime he didn’t commit.
Kiki had seen all the circumstantial evidence in his file that had been suppressed during the trial and the appeal.
“That’s what he says.”
“I believe him. Apparently, you don’t.”
Mitch was good at hiding his feelings and expressions. He was like a rock. But then he was a cop, so this didn’t surprise Kiki.
“Didn’t say that. But let’s just say I’m not happy with the direction his life took.”
“Being a part of the club,” she reiterated.
“Yes.”
“You got out; you wanted him to stay out, too.”
Mitch’s eyes softened with amusement. “I’m supposed to be here asking you questions, not the other way around.”
“I’m just stating facts.”
The officer’s eyes went from soft to hard in an instant. “Right. One of my sons makes me proud. The other one doesn’t. Those are the facts.”
God, that hurt Kiki’s heart to hear. She hoped Zak never heard words like those come from his father’s mouth. Ever. Even though he was an adult and a badass biker who had the love of a good woman, she could just im
agine those words would still be devastating to hear.
She couldn’t even picture her own parents judging her that way. Yes, they were “free spirits,” and even though they would’ve loved for Kiki to be the same instead of becoming an attorney and being a part of the “establishment,” they always supported her. And when they finally returned from their latest retreat, she was sure they would love Hawk, biker or not. No matter how opposite she was from her parents, they loved her just the same. She didn’t realize how lucky she truly was. Until now.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kiki murmured.
“Don’t be. So, you and Hawk...”
“Hawk and I are a fact, too, Officer Jamison. And for future reference, I’m also the club’s attorney. So... if you want to ask me questions regarding this kidnapping, rape and aggravated assault, please do so now. I’m getting tired.”
Mitch nodded his head, flipped open his notepad, clicked the end of his pen and did what he came to do...
Asked Kiki questions that tore her wounds open all over again.
Chapter Seventeen
Kiki visited Jazz every day in the hospital, even after she was released. Hawk would take her in his old pickup truck so she could spend some time with her. Once Jazz was released, her parents took her home to their place in Buffalo to finish healing and get some help.
Kiki hadn’t been home to her condo yet. Hawk had insisted she come back to his place, even though it was the originating point of the kidnapping. She felt empty as she stared at the spot where she had parked her Vette for the last time. Hawk had ushered her inside quickly and right up to his bed to rest.
She’d had enough of “resting” in the hospital. But his concern for her made her feel warm and fuzzy all over.
Hard to believe such a tough, badass biker had such a soft center. Not that she said that out loud. Saying something like that would definitely invoke a scowl from Hawk, since he would never admit he was a big ol’ softy.
Jazz had spent five days in the hospital since, besides the nasty head wounds, she had shattered wrists, a snapped humerus, four broken fingers, cracked ribs, and countless bruises. The worst of it, besides the torn soft tissue from the sexual assault, was that they carved “SWMC” into the skin of her stomach. Kiki didn’t see it, nor did Jazz volunteer to show it, and Kiki couldn’t imagine having to look at those scars for the rest of her life. A constant reminder of what she went through. Hopefully, Jazz’s family could find a good plastic surgeon to help minimize the scarring.
What killed Kiki the most was seeing the vibrancy and life that Jazz had extinguished in her eyes. She was now lifeless and spoke in a flat monotone, only answering questions when she was forced to, otherwise remaining quiet no matter who attempted to talk to her.
Kiki would still sit with her, hold her hand, and try to encourage conversation. Hawk would hover outside the door until Kiki had enough for the day and would leave before she started sobbing.
Seeing Jazz that way broke her heart.
Seeing Jazz that way made her not care what Diesel, Hawk and all of the club brothers had planned for those Shadow Warriors. They deserved everything that was coming to them.
The cops hadn’t found them yet, and she imagined their goal was to do that before any DAMC member did.
Pierce, the club president, had even met with the president of the Dark Knights and they, too, were on the hunt.
Hawk hardly left her side. He fetched anything she needed. He changed out her bandages. If he couldn’t be at the house because he had to head to the bar to handle business, he’d have one of the DAMC women there. He even had Ivy and Jewel run to her condo to pick up stuff that she had jotted down on a piece of paper, including clothes, and personal items she couldn’t live without, like her brand of deodorant. She wasn’t fond of her pits smelling like Old Spice.
Unfortunately, as caring as everybody acted, she was never left alone and, not being used to that, she was about to scream.
She needed alone time.
She also needed to hop back on the horse, get back to work, and, more importantly, have intimate time with Hawk. He’d hardly touched her since she’d come to his place from the hospital. He would only offer a hand to help her up or down, kiss the top of her head or change a bandage.
That was it.
She didn’t need a nurse. She needed her man back.
Now, two weeks later she needed him to stop pussyfooting around and act like Hawk. Bossy, demanding, alpha and a total badass.
A sexual powerhouse.
Not to mention, she had a nagging itch that needed a good scratching.
Being that it was only seven on a Saturday morning, Hawk was still asleep. His chest rising and falling softly, one massive arm thrown over his head, the other laying across his bare, tattooed stomach. And yes, sir! She was hungry and it wasn’t for food.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t crawled into bed until around four in the morning, and had kept to his side of the mattress after pressing his lips to her forehead thinking she was asleep.
She hadn’t been. She had a hard time sleeping unless he was beside her. He worried about her, but she worried about him, too. The Warriors could show up anytime, anywhere and they could ambush him on his way home while riding his Harley.
However, she kept those fears to herself since he was supposed to be a big, bad motherfucker—his words—and he could take care of himself.
Right.
She still worried.
She still sighed in relief when he crawled into bed in the middle of the night or early morning in one piece.
She rolled his direction and studied his profile. His face was relaxed and he was more handsome than ever when it was. No grumbling, grunting, scowling or being a bossy biker.
Just Hawk.
She scooted down the bed, her ribs only giving a slight twinge of pain. Something she could live with in order to get what she wanted.
He wasn’t going to be happy that she woke him up, but he’d get over it. She was sure of that.
She slowly pulled down the sheet that was pulled half-assed over his hips, exposing all that was Hawk. Her mouth watered at the sight.
Carefully crawling between his spread thighs, she cupped him and, being soft, took all of him into her mouth.
She worked her tongue around and around the head and down his now semi-soft length. She kissed the tip, then sucked his sac deep into her mouth, working it with her tongue.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” came the sleepy grumble from the head of the bed.
Her eyes tipped that direction and she could see his head raised enough for him to get a bead on her actions.
“Babe.”
She released him only long enough to command, “Quiet.” See how he liked it.
His body shook with what she could guess was a chuckle and his fingers dug deep into her hair as she slipped the tip of his now fully erect cock in between her lips. Hollowing out her cheeks, she sucked him hard.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” he growled again, his hips rising off the mattress.
Circling the root with a couple of fingers, she squeezed hard, making the large veins pop even more. She lifted her head long enough to shoot him a naughty smile and then went to town.
His fingers dug into her scalp and she tried not to wince as he got close to one of her nearly-healed head wounds. Any pain she felt was worth it. She circled the tip of his cock with her tongue, tasting the saltiness of his precum and inhaling his musky maleness.
Her pussy clenched hard and warm wetness gathered between her thighs. She needed his mouth there, his cock there, or even his fingers. She needed to let go, but also needed to hold on at the same time.
“Babe.”
Kiki smiled around his cock at his strangled voice. She didn’t stop, though.
“Babe,” he said again, this time it sounded like a warning. “Babe, gonna blow if you don’t stop.”
His cock slipped from her mouth, shiny and wet, and she smiled up at him. “That’s the p
oint.”
He shook his head. “You’re not ready, babe.”
She knew what he meant, he’d been indicating that for the last few days. Not in so many words, but by his actions. He was worried she hadn’t healed enough, mentally and physically.
“I’m ready, honey.”
His eyes held hers. “No.”
“Yes. Don’t you want me?”
His eyes narrowed. “That ain’t even a question.”
“Then give it to me.”
“Babe.”
“Hawk, I asked the doctor, we can do this.”
“You did what?”
She nodded as she slowly slid up his body, making sure her nipples brushed along his skin. She straddled one of his thick thighs and pressed her pussy to him. Hard.
He tensed.
“He said it was fine.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered.
She lowered her voice and pretended to sound like a biker, “Gotta break the seal sometime.”
Hawk snorted, shook his head, hooked her under her arms and hauled her up over him. She settled her knees on both sides of his waist, and planted her palms on his chest.
“So fuckin’ hot, babe.”
“Yes, even with my beautiful green and yellow bruises?” Her face, her ribs, her arms still showed signs of discoloration.
“Don’t care ‘bout that.”
She tilted her hips, rubbing her damp folds on his lower belly. “Then let’s do it.”
“Babe, you’re killin’ me. Don’t wanna hurt you.”
“You’re not. Just don’t squeeze my ribs, that’s all. I’ll be on top and ride you.”
His eyes darkened. He wanted it badly, too. But she could see the worry mixed in with his desire. “Fuck,” he muttered.
She lifted a wait-a-minute finger and then leaned over to the nightstand, snagging her reading glasses. As she slipped them on, she pouted and tossed her head until her long hair settled over her shoulders and breasts.
“Fuckin’ goddamn,” he muttered again. “Ain’t playin’ fair, babe.”
She smiled. “Nothing’s fair in love and war.”
His eyes flashed at her words. “Want you underneath me so bad. But will take you on top if I gotta.”
Down & Dirty: Books 1-3: Dirty Angels MC Series Box Set Page 57
