Hawk: Reapers MC Book #6 Read online

  I’ve been staying in his daughter Ashley’s old room in the house she grew up in. His bedroom is down the hall from mine and he constantly has his door shut. The only reason I know he’s alive is because when my insomnia keeps me up, I can hear him make his way downstairs in the middle of the night to get food.

  Tonight is one of those nights where it’s brisk as hell out and the old insulation does a shit job at keeping the house warm. It’s a little past two in the morning and I’ve gotten about three hours of sleep. That’s how my insomnia works. Some people can’t sleep for shit, but mine allows me a couple of decent hours of sleep at a time. I’m betting I’ll be awake for a few more before I can get some good shut-eye again.

  I made some chamomile-lavender tea a few minutes ago, allowing the tea bag to seep in the hot water before I mix my honey and lemon juice in. I hate putting sugar in tea because it fucks it up. Plus, buying raw, unfiltered honey is great for people like me who get seasonal allergies.

  Chamomile is a natural relaxant and so is lavender. A therapist told me when I was younger that my anxiety is the root of my insomnia, but I wasn’t going to go to more appointments. I didn’t have much cash to begin with and as soon as I found out I wasn’t dying, I felt fine. I’ve always been anxious as hell, but I’ll never let it beat me.

  Footsteps creak down the stairs and Fist comes in wearing his old, worn-down robe. It’s gray and ratty as hell. Not to mention, it stinks. I’ve seen homeless people who smell better than Fist does. It’s only because he hasn’t showered. Zane said something to me the other day wondering if his father hadn’t showered. I almost slapped him upside the head. Not one part of me could figure out how he didn’t fully know his father hadn’t washed. He stinks!

  Even with the smell, I won’t treat Fist any differently. He’s gone through an incredibly traumatic experience losing his brother and then the woman he loved. Not only that, but his clubhouse burned to ash before his very eyes. That has to take a toll on a man, especially one who was so used to having control and maintaining order.

  I have to admit, I had mixed feelings about Fist at first because of the grief he was giving Ivy. He was directing his hostile feelings toward her, something he should’ve never done that in the first place. We all figured out that Grizzly, the man who was thought to be Ivy’s father, isn’t. He’s her step-father and Ivy’s been reunited with her biological father and family.

  “You always awake?” Fist questions, raising a brow as he makes his way toward the refrigerator. I watch him closely, internally betting on whether he’s going to open the fridge door or grab a bottle of bourbon from the top.

  I run my finger over my mug while answering him. “We’ve already gone over this. I can’t sleep at night most of the time, so I sit down here instead of sitting in the dark. Plus, I don’t want to wake Frank up.”

  “Ah, the guy who isn’t your boyfriend?”

  “He isn’t,” I confirm, further elaborating. Fist and I have gotten in many discussions about this. Frank is the gayest man I know. He loves anyone big, burly, and hairy. One night, he made a joke about dragging his tongue down a man’s chest to his happy trail and flossing his teeth along the way. I thought I was going to vomit, but I keeled over laughing instead.

  “Yeah, whatever. You two sleepin’ in the same bed is confirmation enough that boy can’t be on my team.”

  “Yeah, we share a bed because we’re limited until the clubhouse and the other homes get built,” I remind Fist.

  Boy, we’re so far away from making any progress on that front. We have Fist’s house jam-packed with people, plus Ashley and Blackjack’s too. Anywhere we can put bodies, we have been. Luckily, Frank and I are good enough friends that we could room together. The two of us have been through quite an ordeal. Well, the two of us and Ivy but she’s already gone down to Las Vegas with Kade.

  I can’t blame them for leaving considering we don’t know where her satanic step-father is. He wants her dead more than anything else on this planet, probably more so now than ever. Ivy is pregnant, so keeping her and the baby safe is Kade’s priority, as it should be.

  It’s only been two weeks and I told her I’d be down in Vegas before Christmas. Not only myself but Frank too. It’s an opportunity for both of us to get a new start. I just need to wrap up a few things up here— loose ends, so to speak.

  All my life, the only thing I’ve ever wanted was a clean break. Even now, I can’t get one. Not when a ghost of my past called me up out of the blue. I have dinner with her tomorrow in town. The only thing I can wonder is if she’s going to give me hell or make me question everything.

  2

  “And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.”

  ~ John Muir

  Hawk

  It may only be ten in the mornin’ but I’ll be damned if it isn’t five o’clock somewhere. I take my glass bottle and head out the front door of the clubhouse, walkin’ toward the picnic tables Damon and Amara had put out front. I plant my ass on the wood and stare off into the distance.

  For the most part, anyone who’s already awake is off and doin’ whatever the hell it is they do each day. Some days I don’t even know why I’m here. I know Fist wanted Damon to have numbers in his ranks when it came to openin’ up this charter of the Reapers . . . but now that we’ve got more members with the patch-over from the Brotherhood MC, it doesn’t matter. At least not to me anyway.

  Things have been quiet for the last couple of weeks, but only after everything blew to hell —literally. Kade, Fist’s son, is on his way down here with Ivy, his ol’ lady. They’ve been takin’ their grand ol’ time, bein’ all leisurely and shit. I can’t blame either of ‘em for extending the drive. Hell, when I rode down I wish I could’ve broken it up some. My ass and back were screamin’ at me for days. I used to be able to take these long rides and have it not affect me one bit, but now I’m approaching my thirty-third birthday . . . I feel like I’m fuckin’ fallin’ apart.

  I bring the nose of the bottle up to my lips and take a long draw, surprised that there’s not a speck of white on the ground. This time of year up in Montana we’ve usually had a few heavy snowfalls by now. I’m standin’ out here in the sun where it can’t be below the mid-seventies.

  Over the past couple of months, most of our problems down here have evaporated like a puddle in the desert heat. We had problems with this Mexican gang that was hired by the cartel, but since we knocked them on their asses, we haven’t had any problems. Well, that and the fact the leader of the cartel, Rafael Ramirez, was replaced by the Lopez family. No one liked Rafael, but our friends at the Skulls Renegade MC over in Tennessee were really fuckin’ angry with that bastard . . . so much so that they killed him.

  I don’t blame them one bit. Hell, if they hadn’t, Boog’ would’ve been next in line. You see, his girl had her entire life fucked up by Rafael, as did her sister Maria, who is with two of the Skulls men. The only thing that fucker Rafael ever did was cause misery for everyone around him.

  “You’re up awfully early,” Onyx purrs over my way.

  The woman keeps tryin’ to get with Cobra and I, but she’s not my type. There’s some cute little bird up in Montana that I just can’t seem to stop thinkin’ about. She got shot a few weeks back and it pissed me off more than anything that Damon and Amara ordered me to stay down here. They both kept sayin’ we didn’t know what was comin’ our way. After all, history repeats itself. Usually, whenever one charter is hit, the next one is close behind.

  Since it’s been so quiet down here for so long, we took our time to prepare for whatever hell may come our way. I just never expected most of my troubles to be coming from these prostitutes Onyx has. She’s basically their Madame, or pimp, whatever you wanna call her.

  “I could say the same about you. Hasn’t Cobra been keepin’ you up pretty late?”

  “He has, yes, but I think you know I’m not the type of woman who needs much sleep. If you catch my drift.”

  I sit
my bottle down on the picnic table and give her a stern look. “Listen Onyx, we’ve gone over this shit a thousand times. I’m not gonna fuck you. You wanna be a patch bunny, then just hop around to the next one. I’m not sinking my cock into your cunt because Lord knows what’s been growin’ up in there.”

  Onyx giggles. Shit, this woman surprises me. In most cases, I would’ve been slapped across the face, but nope. Not this one. “No one ever says no to me, Hawk. You’ll see. Hell, maybe I’ll get a two-for-one. Chaz and Cobra don’t mind having a bit of fun with me. Maybe I’ll trade Chaz out for you next time. Word on the street is you’ve got a pretty heavy one.” She looks down at my pants, reminding me of a lion eyeing a gazelle on one of those documentaries.

  I’m about to say something smart-assed to her when I hear the unmistakable sound of a truck headed our way. We haven’t had any visitors for about a week and as I scan the area, I see all of our grocery getters are still here.

  The red-colored truck comes flying down the road and slows as it hits the gravel mixed with sand. I take another swig of my beer and rise, putting my hand over my head to get a better look at who could be inside.

  Kade’s mean mug is smirkin’ like he never has before and I immediately walk up to the truck. I’ve never seen Ivy before, but she’s a gorgeous woman. She’s got long, thick black hair and her skin is a caramel color I haven’t seen before. Kade rolls down his window as he brings his truck to a stop. “I thought you two got lost or some shit. Only took y’all a thousand years to get down here.”

  Kade throws his head back in laughter. “We needed a break. Decided to make a small vacation out of our trip.”

  “I don’t blame you there. Y’all have been through hell.”

  Ivy instantly looks at Kade, giving him a concerned look. She’s been through some rough shit, but all of us Reapers have too, especially Kade. Word on the street is his dad isn’t much of the same man anymore. All the brothers have been gossiping like schoolgirls, saying how Fist has changed. I’m sure it must be hard on his kids, especially his sons. Knowing Ashley, she’s still got some sliver of hope her dad will turn shit around. The twins have always been a little more realistic, though.

  “Yeah, well, here’s to hoping it’s behind us. I heard you guys haven’t had much trouble lately.”

  “No, we haven’t,” I confirm, answering Kade while I give Ivy a smile and extend my hand through the window to her. “My apologies for being rude. I’m Hawk.”

  “You’re Hawk?” she asks, eyes growing wide.

  I nod, wondering why she responded like that. “Yeah, says so right here.” I show her my patch. “You know me or somethin’?” I know the woman doesn’t know me ‘cause we haven’t met before . . . but she’s definitely heard about me.

  “No, sorry. We just have a mutual friend in common.”

  “Oh, who’s that?”

  Instead of Ivy answering, Kade does. “Raven.”

  Shit, Raven’s friend is down here? I had no idea these two were close, but I’ll use it to my advantage. I’ve been wanting Raven for ages. I can’t help but hold back my mischievous smirk and Kade catches me. “You know, Ivy talked Raven and their friend Frank into moving down here.”

  “Frank. Who the fuck is Frank?” I blurt out my question, already angered by hearing another man’s name.

  “He’s our friend. He worked at the same bar we did and we both think that by Frank moving down here with us, it’ll give him the opportunity to live life as his fullest self. He has slim pickings up in Montana,” Ivy explains, although I don’t understand.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Frank is gay. In Vegas, he has plenty of potential men who can make his life a little happier.”

  Shit, I never thought I’d be this happy to hear a man isn’t straight. The only downside is knowing Raven won’t be here for a few more weeks. Fuck it, I’ve waited this long for her. I can wait a bit longer.

  3

  Cutting people out of my life doesn’t mean I hate them. It means I respect myself.

  ~ @Karim Murad

  Raven

  I asked Fist last night if I could borrow his old truck because I don’t want to drive my car into town— not when I know she’ll recognize it. I’ve had the same one for years and I want to have the upper hand here. After all, it’s not like I’ve had it for the majority of my life.

  Fist ended up making a trade with me. If I bring him back a bottle of whiskey, he’d let me use it. I figured it was a fair enough deal and accepted, although I hope someday soon he stops drowning his sorrows in liquor. I know it’s hard to deal with loss, but everyone gets over it. We all just have different ways of coping.

  I hear my phone buzzing on the dashboard and pick it up, putting whoever has called me on speaker. “Hello?”

  “Uh . . . Raven. Why on earth did you hide the fact that Hawk is so easy on the eyes? I just met him this morning when we got to the clubhouse and he shook my hand like a gentleman. All-day he’s been getting me whatever I need, treating me like a queen.”

  “Well, you kinda are royalty to them, Ivy,” I point out. She’s basically a Monroe now, so she needs to start getting used to being treated with dignity and respect.

  “I don’t think that’s true at all. I do think since Fist accepted me, everyone else is starting to, though.”

  “Yeah, they are and have been,” I agree. “So, tell me . . . how’s he look?”

  “Besides the fact he could impregnate women just by looking in their direction? Normal.”

  I laugh, trying to picture him the last time we saw each other. He had this aura about him. It made me want to trust him from the first second we met, to tell him all my deep, dark secrets and the hurtful things that have been done to me. His eyes are a soft blue and so kind. It instantly made me want to be wrapped up in his arms, but I couldn’t be at the time. I was still sorting shit out with CJ, trying to make our relationship work for the umpteenth time. We’d been getting on and off the rollercoaster that was our relationship for years.

  I owed it to myself to finally get off the ride. I made a promise to myself to be happy in every way possible. Being with CJ didn’t make me happy— it suffocated me. His presence sucked away everything I loved about myself. When I made the decision to leave him, I felt free. Or at least, I felt free until I had to go to work and face him. You know how that made me feel, though? Brave.

  “I can’t wait to see him again,” I confess, trying to focus on the road ahead of me. I have no time to be daydreaming about the silly crush I have on this biker. I must confess I had a few naughty dreams about this man after I met him, dreams that imprinted themselves in my mind.

  “I have a feeling he thinks the same about you. I wish I had recorded him when I told him we were friends. He could’ve shit himself, for all I know.”

  “Oh?” I mutter, giggling.

  “Yep. So, what’ve you been up to?” Ivy asks, and for a moment I think about lying to her. I don’t know why the option comes so easily to my mind, but it does. I never told her too much about my past. After all, they’re my demons. No one else should have to deal with them. Hell, it took me years to just accept them for what they are— things I can’t change and have no control over. My anxiety wanted me to be able to make things change, but that’s not how the world works.

  “I’m on my way into town to meet up with my Momma,” I say, stopping there. The only thing Ivy knows about my family is that they’ve had issues with pills. She doesn’t know about the life I was subjected to as a teenage girl. It’s dirty laundry I don’t really care to discuss.

  “Really? When’s the last time you saw her?” Ivy’s question causes me to think back. I don’t think I’ve seen her since I came home for Christmas freshman year. Out all the things she’s ever done to me, that had to be the worst.

  I took a bus from Missoula to our small town and ended up walking four miles to the trailer she was renting only to find she didn’t live there anymore. She and my brother
were kicked out three months prior and they never told me. I spent that Christmas at Izzy’s house and never got the answers I sought. It was only when Izzy’s mom was driving me to the bus stop that I saw my Momma. She was on the side of the road talking with someone who everyone knew as a drug dealer. It all made sense. She let her habit destroy our home.

  “Christmas a few years back, but I haven’t spoken to her since I graduated high school,” I tell her, hoping I can keep the painful memories buried deep inside.

  “Holy shit. How long has that been?”

  “Almost five years now.”

  I hear Ivy suck in a sharp breath. “And now all of a sudden you’re going to see her? How the hell did that happen?”

  “She got my phone number somehow and called me. I didn’t expect it.” Hell, if any ghost would’ve called me from my past, I thought it would’ve been Izzy before my Momma. Izzy and I didn’t really leave things on good terms, but there are far too many feelings left there.

  “Raven, didn’t you say your family had drug problems?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Alright, well, be careful. You never know. This could be some ploy to get you to give them money for their next fix. I’d love to hope it isn’t, but I’ve learned to expect the worst out of people.”

  “Yeah, we know why.” I laugh, hoping she finds the humor out of my reply. I breathe a little easier when she laughs too.

  I pull Fist’s truck into a parking spot a few stores away from the restaurant I agreed to meet my Momma at. “I just got into town, so I’ll let you know how it goes.”

  “Okay, be safe.”

  “You too, and please send Hawk my love.”

  “Oh, I’ll have so much fun telling him that,” Ivy cackles, hanging up the phone.