by Shyla Colt
They were still in the trial period. While he didn’t believe she’d ever betray them intentionally, her priorities tended to be whack. If she thought it infringed on the rights of others, she’d hold back important information. The real question was how he’d get her to let him inside far enough to figure out how to get her to open up. Why the hell did Tiny think I was the man for this job? Keeping someone safe was one thing, but all this mental work gave him a damn headache.
Hell, Casanova would have her panties off, and her mouth moving a mile a minute while she spilled her guts in no time. Thoughts of her doing anything with the blond-haired man made him growl. Like it or not, something inside of him claimed Hilary as his. He just needed to figure out what that meant exactly while he bulldozed her walls.
They stood a few feet away from the fence he’d littered with liquor bottles. He pulled out his .45.
“Before I teach you anything, we have to go over a few base rules. First, treat every weapon as if it’s loaded. Second, don’t point at anything you don’t intend to shoot.” He laughed at her shocked expression. “My old man took firearms seriously. I was properly trained and shooting regularly by the time I was twelve. This isn’t some point-and-shoot sideways shit like you see on TV.”
“So this is common knowledge?” she asked.
“To anyone properly trained it is. Rule number three, keep your safety on until you intend to shoot.”
“Roger that,” she said.
“Have you ever held a gun before?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head.
“Okay, let’s go over it first. This is the safety.” He touched the metal tab near the hammer. “You flip this to arm it.” He flicked it and she flinched it at the click. “I know this is a lot, but you need to get used to it to shoot effectively.”
“I know; it’s just…disconcerting. This is a life-ending instrument.”
“It’s good to have a healthy dose of respect for a firearm, but you can’t fear it.” He clicked the safety once more. “And now it’s off. You can’t see the red dot. When the safety is off, you know the gun is ready to fire. Here, I want you to hold it.” He offered the lightweight weapon to her. She took it gingerly, wincing.
“This feels awkward,” she said.
“It will be for a while. How does the weight feel?” he asked watching her emulate the hold he’d showed her.
“It’s not too heavy. I thought it would be.”
Hawk remained silent, watching as she shifted it from one hand to the other. “Hold it by the pistol grip.”
“The what?” she said.
“The handle.”
“Oh.” She did as he requested.
“All right, now we’re going to work on aiming. Plant your feet a few inches apart. Good.” He moved up and pressed his front to her back. “Now lift the gun.” He wrapped his arms around her, guiding her arms into the proper position. “Are you right-handed or left-handed?”
“Right.”
“Okay, get a high, firm grip, like this.” He positioned her hand. Now use your left hand as a base. You want to form a triangle.”
“Oooh, okay, I get it.” Her muscles loosened slightly.
“Now I want you to use the rear sight and line it up with the front.” Her ass pressed into him and he held his breath. Holy shit, she’s built like a brick house. “I’m going to let go now, you ready?”
“No.”
“Trial by fire, babe. Let’s take the clip out. Clear the weapon like I showed you.”
She pressed the button on the side releasing the clip.
“Now, it’s not loaded so you’re okay. We’re just going through the motions.” He released his hold on her wrist and the gun, grateful for the space. He put a stranglehold on the blood flowing straight to his dick and forced his attention back to the lesson. “Aim and I’m going to show you what the recoil will feel like, so you’re not taken completely by surprise.”
He walked around her and knocked the barrel with his open palm. “Aim.” He hit the barrel again. “Aim.” They repeated the process until she flinched. “See, you’re anticipating the kick back. What you need to do is get used to squeezing the trigger, nice and slow, keeping your gun straight, and your sights set on the bottles. Right now you have the luxury of time. In real life, you need to be able to act instinctively.”
“How do you get used to this?”
“Practice, girl. Now load the clip. We’re going to take the safety off now and actually fire.”
“I’m not ready, Hawk.” Her eyes grew as round as dinner plates.
“No one ever is their first time. Now I want you to aim the barrel down, take the safety off, and aim at the first bottle on the end of the fence.” When she completed the task he forged ahead, racing against the nerves he knew must be forming. “On three, one, two, three.”
Her body flinched and her eyes threatened to bulge out of their sockets. She missed the shot by a few feet.
“You all right?”
“My heart’s beating about a mile a minute. That is some scary shit.”
“Then you’re going to hate me because I want you to do it again.
“Now,” he said.
“O-okay.”
She lifted her arms once more and took the shoot, missing the bottles again by a shorter distance.
“Again,” he barked, feeling like a drill instructor. She fired, missing once more.
“Again.” Glass shattered.
“Good job now let’s go for another one.”
She peered over her shoulder at him and he stared back, daring her to challenge him. War was coming. Shit was about to get ugly. He’d be damned if she’d be caught unprepared on his watch.
* * * * *
Hilary took one last look at the cabin. Today they were moving to Hawk’s house. The thought made her nervous. There was an intimacy that came with living together. She felt out of sorts and exposed in this new skin. The jeans she wore molded to her body like second skin. The biker boots came up to mid-calf, and the off-the-shoulder Mayhem T-shirt had been slashed in the back. Her red hair was slicked back into a ponytail that hid her mid-back. Who knew I had this much hair? It’d been years since she’d straightened it. This week had been a crash course in all things Mayhem. As much as she’d been around the girls and their men, she hadn’t understood how much went on behind the scenes.
She’d never been the type to let go of control. As spontaneous and outspoken as she might be, there was always a method to her madness. She needed to have a plan to work from or a goal to move toward. This put all that on hold and forced her to take a good long look at herself and her current place in life. Usually when the bad thoughts came, she buried them under work. There was no instant gratification like finishing a chapter or a really challenging scene.
It never occurred to her that outside of her friends and writing, her life was sorely lacking. Until now. After a brief conversation with her mother and editor, there’d been no one else to inform about her vacation. With her work shelved, she had to try not to climb the walls. Her thoughts drifted to Hawk. The man was masculine, commanding, and—if she was being honest—arresting. He intrigued her. Despite his tough exterior there was a keen intelligence in his eyes, and a story to be told. She knew next to nothing about him, but she found herself wanting to know more. Beneath the snark, impassive face, and tough-guy exterior, she’d seen glimpses of a remarkable man.
She walked over to the bike where Hawk waited.
“You ready to ride?”
Hilary nodded.
“Give me your bag. We can get going.” It was a command. Biting the inside of her cheek she lifted her head, determined not to be the first to yell uncle. He was testing her, and she would not fail. She handed him her bag to stow in a saddlebag. Once he completed the task, he turned to her with a black helmet and a sly smile. “You need help on?”
“No, I got it,” she said quietly. Retrieving the helmet from him she smoothly placed it on her head an
d belted the chin strap. Confident, she mounted the bike behind him, expertly using the foot peg as if she’d been doing it all her life. She’d practiced with the prospects over and over until it felt natural. A house mouse would be old hat about being on the back of a bike. So like any actor prepping for a part, she’d rehearsed all the small details that made it believable. Wrapping her arms round his waist, she molded her body to his, ready for the surge forward that came with the initial takeoff.
“Maybe I underestimated you,” Hawk said.
“Maybe you did,” she said, hoping her flippant tone disguised the anxiety rocketing toward the moon. They took off, and the wind caught the end of her hair. The rumble of the massive machine, and the heat pouring off the man in front of her were a welcome distraction from the mess she was plunging into.
By the time they pulled into his driveway she was achy, exhausted, and grateful for the sissy seat on the back that allowed her to relax between the curves in the road. She could fake the motions, but her body wasn’t used to long rides. That kind of familiarity took time. He cut the engine and she let her hands flop down, resting her palms on her thighs.
“How you doing back there?” he asked.
“I’ve been better,” she said.
He chuckled. “You’ll get used to it. I think you held up pretty good. Not even one stop between here and there.”
His home was farther out on a nice spread of land. She hadn’t pegged him for the country-home type. The rolling hills, two-story white house with green shutters, and the massive front porch with a wooden swing were downright charming. All he needs to complete the picture is an old hound dog. Bikes lined the driveway.
“Who’s here?”
“Prospects. They’ll be keeping watch around the clock.”
“Do we really need that many?” she asked.
“We aren’t taking any chances.”
He dismounted, and she followed, stumbling. He caught her around the waist as she focused on her spaghetti legs.
“Easy, it’ll take a minute to get your land legs back.” He pulled her to his side and guided them toward the porch. The two story home boasted light blue siding, a manicured lawn and a wooden swing on the porch. She fought the urge to gape. This is at total odds with the man I know. “You good now?” he asked
“Yeah, I think so.”
He released her and she instantly missed his warmth. He climbed the porch steps and unlocked the door. Stepping to the side he motioned for her to precede him. “You go in and have a seat on the couch while I get everything from the saddle bag.”
“O-okay.” Out of her element, she floundered like a fish on land. The living room screamed bachelor pad. Unadorned beige walls, Beige carpet, a navy-blue couch with matching chairs, and dark wood end tables greeted her. She sank down onto the sofa and sighed with relief. Directly in front of her, mounted on the wall was a massive television. Easily forty-five inches, the sleek black square was hooked up to a bevy of game systems located in the entertainment system below. Boys and their toys.
Boots sounded on the tile entryway and she glanced up, suddenly nervous to be alone with him.
“I know it’s been a long day, so I’ll give you a tour and let you get settled in your room. The uh, girls came in and got it all girlified for you.” He scratched his eyebrow.
“Sounds good.” She stood. He dumped the saddle bags beside the door and they began their tour.
“This is the kitchen. I don’t have any fancy crap, but it has all the basics needed to make a meal. I can cook, but I usually bring in food or eat out. It’s easier with the hours I keep. Can you cook?”
“Yes,” she said huffily.
“Good. The pantry is through that door. The girls stocked it with things you’d find useful. Anything else you want, make me a list, and I’ll get it for you. Out the back,” he pointed to a door, “is another porch and a decent-size yard. You can spend time out there if you want. The whole place is rigged with surveillance cameras, minus the bathroom and the bedrooms, of course. The security system is pretty easy to arm and disarm. I’ll write down the code for you and give you a day to memorize it. Then I want it destroyed.”
“I understand.”
“Good, you can explore more tomorrow, this is a bare-bones kind of thing. They continued through the home until they reached the room that would be hers. The beige room welcomed her with its polka dot bed spread and decorative pillows. A small desk in the corner held fresh wildflowers and the end tables boasted candles. The smell of roses made her smile.
“You have your own bathroom in there, so you uh, don’t have to share with me.”
“Thank you, Hawk.”
“Yeah, no problem. I’m going to crash now, unless you need something else.”
“No. this…is more than enough.”
He nodded and left the room swiftly, leaving her to wonder what was going on behind his stoic expression.
Exhausted, she closed the door behind him, slipped off her clothes and crawled into the bed. She’d have plenty of time to try to piece together the puzzle that was Hawk.
Chapter Six
She’d managed to set up a meeting with the victims after her hair appointment. Hawk had dropped her off personally, stunning her. He took his job of guarding her seriously. He’d been her shadow from the minute they arrived at the house. Clad in a tiny pair of black jean shorts, black cowboy boots, and a black T-shirt that clung to her every curve, she felt exposed. As much as she tried to pretend this was a role she played like an actor, her subconscious got the best of her. This was her life, and it had spiraled out of control so fast and so far she had nothing left but straws to grasp onto.
“Are you ready to see your look, Hil?” Donna asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Donna laughed. “Don’t worry, you look amazing.” She spun the chair around, and Hilary held her breath.
The spinning stopped, and she found herself peering into a reflective surface and not recognizing the face that looked back. The hair color made her skin glow and brought out flecks of light brown in her eyes she hadn’t realized were there.
“Wow.” She turned her head to the left and the right, admiring the subtle layers Donna had added.
“I know you wanted to look like another person, so I did a little nip here and there.”
“It’s beautiful.” Hilary touched her silken locks, impressed with the rich tone.
“Since you’ll be wearing it straight from now on I used a hair serum that will keep the curls at bay for three days at a pop. I’d suggest you take some bottles home, so you don’t fry your hair daily.”
“Oh my God, Donna, you should be nominated for sainthood,” Hilary said.
Donna laughed. “I’d never make it inside the gates.” She winked.
“I’ll call Hawk and let him know I’m ready. Can I get the bottles of that hair serum while I wait?”
“Of course, only the best for the ladies of Mayhem. Ya’ll are some of my best customers.” Donna patted her shoulder and removed the cape that kept the hair from clinging to her clothing. “You’re all set, beautiful.”
Hilary rose from the chair, still marveling at the change. With her eyebrows dyed to match she was totally transformed. She walked to the front and called Hawk, still in a daze. When a motorcycle roared up, she snapped out of her daze and stood, immediately recognizing Hawk as the driver. With her bag of serum in hand she waved to the woman behind the desk and stepped outside. Hawk lowered his sunglasses and smiled. “Well if ain’t the Little Mermaid in the flesh. Looking good, Ariel.”
“Funny,” Hilary said trying to hide her nervousness.
“No, I’m serious, that’s your name from now on. I’ve been thinking about it, but nothing else I came up with seemed to fit. This is perfect.”
“Really? Ariel?” she said with a huff.
“Yep, a sexy ass tempting creature no one can put their hands on sounds about right.”
“Oh.” He likes it. Sh
e smiled to herself.
“Come on, Ariel. We need to head to our meeting. If we’re late, the girls might lose their nerve and leave.”
“Truth.” The girls were nervous about bringing an unknown man into their circle. Especially one who was a vice president of a biker club. So they’d arranged to meet at a hole in the wall dive bar about thirty minutes from town. He took the bag from her, stowing it as she climbed onto the back of his bike.
She walked slightly behind him as they entered The Torch, sweeping the busy place for the girls.
“I see them in the back corner.”
“Damn, they’re serious about this incognito thing,” Hawk said.
“It’s probably what’s kept them flying under the radar.”
“I think they spotted you.” Hawk chuckled.
The three women gaped as they made their way through the crowd. They reached the table, and Hawk pulled out a stool. Hilary sat, and he nodded his greeting to the wide-eyed women.
“Hey guys. This is Hawk. Hawk this is Karla, Maddie, Nic, and Lorene.” They were all stunning, ranging from brunette to blonde, with skin tones equally varied.
“Hi,” Karla ventured. As the unofficial spokesperson she always forged ahead for the three other women she considered to be her sisters. “C-can you tell us what this is all about?”
Hilary glanced around and leaned in. “Remember how I told you I’d been working on a way to put the men who…hurt you away?”
The girls nodded. Hilary had managed to track the women down through their medical records, hearsay, and pictures of Peter and his friends. None would give away the identity of the men they dated, but they had begun to tell her about the things they’d done.
