Hawk's Property: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 1) (17 page)

“Why are you
involved in this? Aren’t you supposed to be defending people
after
the investigation is over?” Eric asked Cara while they sat at the Regency Hotel bar.

“I got pulled into it, that’s all. I know people are trying to frame Hawk in the sheriff’s office. I think whoever is doing it is being paid by this other biker club, Deadly Demons.”

“Whoa, Cara, you’re disintegrating before my eyes. What’s all this talk of Deadly Demons and bikers? Leave them all behind. I’m sure you have other cases, am I right?”

“An injustice is being done here. Don’t you see it?”

“So what? They’re all scumbags, whether they call themselves Insurgents or Deadly Demons. Who cares? Stay out of it, Cara. Anyway, you don’t know if anything you’re saying is true.”

“I checked the judicial background of the Deadly Demons Nomads, and they haven’t had one conviction in the last three years. Don’t you find that suspicious? Something is wrong here. I know it.”

“Are you saying the whole judicial system is protecting lowlife bikers? You sound like one of those people who think everything is a conspiracy. Move on, Cara.”

“I can’t.”

“You must, or you’re going to place yourself and maybe your family in danger. You don’t want to drag your parents into harm’s way, do you? You have no idea what these outlaws are capable of.”

Cara slowly nodded.

“Now, let’s forget this dirty biker world and talk about something else,” he suggested as he brought his drink to his lips.

As the two cousins talked, a man in the shadows watched them. The glow of his cigarette reflected in his fierce eyes.

H
awk watched her
come through the coffee house doors, and she was beautiful. Her hair hung down her back, her eyes gleamed, and she wore a tight pencil skirt with a fitted sweater top, her high-heeled shoes completing the sexy look he loved. He moved around in his chair, trying to get comfortable as his dick stirred.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said breathlessly.

He smiled. “You gonna win this for me?”

“You bet. Those photos are gold.”

“You look hot when you’re excited. Is this how you’ll look with my cock in your pussy?”

“Why do you say those things, especially in a public place?”

“You know you like my dirty mouth. You’d love it on your slippery slit right now if you had the guts to go in the back and let me.”

“You see, that kind of talk won’t get your case dismissed. We agreed to talk about your case.”

“Fair enough, but am I allowed to fantasize about fuckin’ you while you legalese me?”

“I can’t stop you from thinking, if that’s what you mean.”

“Good. You want to know about me? I’ll tell you in one sentence. My life and my family began when I walked into the Insurgents’ clubhouse. End of story.”

“You’re not getting off that easily, Hawk.” She smiled.

He loved hearing her say his name.
Fuck, I’m pathetic
.

“Let’s talk a while, okay?” she said. Hawk nodded, urging her to continue. “I know you’re the Insurgents’ VP. Do you do anything besides MC stuff?”

“I do all the computer-related stuff for the club. I also own a bike repair shop. I repair and customize motorcycles, mostly Harleys, and I own a dispensary, but that’s just between you and me.”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a geek,” she teased. “Where did you pick up the computer stuff?”

“I studied all that at UCLA, and even received my degree in computer science.”

“You went to college?”

“Don’t sound so incredulous. We aren’t all stupid and ignorant.”

“No, I mean, I just didn’t take you for a university-type of guy. I mean, it’s cool.”

“Babe, don’t patronize me. I went on the G.I. bill.”

“You were in the Marines, right? I saw it in the case documents when I ran a background check on you.”

“Reconnaissance, Afghanistan.”

“Tough. How many tours did you do?”

“Four.”

“Wow… Wasn’t it awful?” she asked softly.

“It was fuckin’ brutal, but you do what you need to do and make sure your ass is still alive after you do it.”

“Are you all right? I’m sure you saw a lot of horror during your tours. Is there something you want to talk about? I’m a good listener.”

“I’m fine. It was a goddamn job, I fuckin’ dealt with it, and all that shit is in the past. It’s over. End of story.”

“How did you end up with the Insurgents?”

Hawk took a deep breath and paused for a long while. His eyes had a distant look in them, like he was reaching back to the recesses of his mind and conjuring up long-forgotten memories. He said, “When I was in Afghanistan, I had my troops. We fuckin’ had each other. We were brothers, doin’ everything together: eating, sleeping, scouting, fighting, and killing. Shit, we even pissed side by side. We fuckin’ had each other’s back; there was nothing like it. We were like a family in Hell. I always knew I had my brothers beside me, and when we lost one, we all mourned. It fuckin’ hit us hard, and it sucked.”

Cara looked at him intently.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, when I got back I was, like… lost.”

“You didn’t have your family?”

He snorted. “What family? You think I was raised in a two-story house with a fuckin’ white picket fence?” He shook his head. “No, baby, I was born in a broken-down trailer near Truckee, California, to a teenage mom and a sonofabitch dad. The only thing my dad knew how to do was use his fists and belts on me and my mom. She fuckin’ escaped the asshole by bailing out one day. She left me alone with him. After he broke a couple of my ribs, the authorities bounced me from one relative to another until there were none left. Foster care was the next step with another fuckin’ bastard who liked the belt, so I split.

“I was thirteen and lived on the streets. This charity lady, Maddie, found me and saved me. I ended up stayin’ with a friend and his mom for a couple of years before I joined up when I was seventeen. His mom pretended I was her son and signed for me.” Hawk’s eyes reflected the pain of a lost childhood.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know the details,” Cara whispered.

He shrugged. “I didn’t give a shit. Hell, I should thank my fuckin’ ol’ man for making me tough.”

“I’m sure it still hurts.”

“Don’t try to fuckin’ analyze me, babe. Shit happens in life. You take it and go with it. I never had a family until I joined the Marines, and when I got out I had no one. In college, I didn’t fit in with the preppy university students.” He paused, looking out the window at the majestic Rocky Mountains. From the corner of his eye, he saw Cara looking at him, her eyes clouded with tenderness. He fought the urge to reach out and caress her cheek and place her head on his chest. All these feelings were messing with him, and he didn’t want any part of it; he didn’t have time to care about this woman. She waited for him to continue, her eyes never leaving his face.

Breaking the silence, Hawk said, “I was in a bar one night, and I had a bit of a goddamn meltdown. ‘Freebird’ was playing on the jukebox and I kept thinking about Rick, my best buddy, who was blown up by a landmine.” He took a gulp of his coffee. “This old dude came up to me. He was wearing a worn leather jacket full of patches, and he put his arm around me. Just like that. I still can’t believe I didn’t fuckin’ smash his face in, but it felt okay, you know? The old man leaned into me and said, ‘Shit, kid, I know what’s goin’ on with you. I was in ’Nam and lost all but two in my platoon. Comin’ back after the fuckin’ shit we all go through isn’t the same, man. That’s why you need a brotherhood. We’re family.’

“That night, I went with him to the Insurgents’ clubhouse. I’ve been with the club ever since. I decided to go to Colorado and patch in with the national club, the one I’m with now. They’re the best damn family I’ve ever had. We’re blood brothers, and we have each other’s backs, always. It’s the best decision I ever made.”

Hawk finished his coffee, his eyes dark and brooding. He was back, and the ghosts of his past retreated to the dark corners of his mind. Cara stroked his forearm. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all this.”

Hawk heard the tears in her voice. He looked at her; her green eyes glistened.
Shit, I didn’t mean to make her cry.
He could handle smart-ass, know-it-all Cara, or angry Cara, but he couldn’t handle crying Cara.

He jerked his arm away from her touch as if his skin were on fire and, pushing back from the table, he hissed, “I don’t need your pity, babe.”

“I’m not giving you any pity,” she said, “just friendship.”

“I don’t need your friendship, either. I have enough friends. I don’t need any more.”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. You wanted to know my life history, now you got it. I didn’t tell it to you to get a reaction outta you. I told you because you needed it to impress some black-robed asshole. I hope I didn’t disappoint you.” Hawk got up from the table and threw twenty dollars on it.

“All I did was offer you kindness.”

Hawk, bending down, spat in her ear, “I don’t fuckin’ want your kindness, your pity, or your friendship. I want your pussy. If you’re ready to let my cock in, we’re good. If not, then fuck off, counselor.”

Cara leapt from her chair, slammed her head into Hawk’s chin, and pushed him back with all her strength. Grabbing the edge of the table, he fought to maintain his balance.

“You arrogant prick! You talk about
me
being afraid? Look at yourself. You’re so damn scared to let anyone in that you’ve made your life nothing but a big escape: booze to numb the pain, women to forget, anger to mask what you’re feeling.”

Hawk clapped his hands. “Congratulations, Dr. Freud! You’ve solved everything in three sentences. Now you can feel good and go back to your pampered life in your high tower to protect that precious pussy of yours.”

“You’re a total asshole!”

“I call it the way it is, baby.” He smiled and winked at her.

The loud crack across his face stunned him, and Cara looked surprised, as well, even though she was the one who’d slapped him. He brought his hand up to his face’s left side.
Fuck, that hurt
.

Cara, recovering from the shock, calmly said, “Fuck you.” All eyes were on her as she turned on her high heels, opened the door, and left the coffee house.

Hawk stood there in disbelief. He rubbed his face.
Damn, she has a strong swing.
A smile crept around his lips.
Fuck, my woman is fiery.
His cock was ready to explode. He knew he was getting to her, but the problem was she was getting to him, too.
I spilled my guts to her.
What the fuck was up with that
? He never told anyone all that shit, not even Banger. Rubbing his face again, he thought about how she’d pay for slapping him. Her sweet ass had a lot of spankings coming.

He swaggered out of the coffee house, hopped on his Harley, and sped down the street, his cheek still stinging. Breathing in the fresh mountain air, he rode toward the clubhouse.

I
t was Saturday
night and Cara hadn’t spoken to Hawk since Wednesday. She still couldn’t believe she’d smacked him across the face. In fact, she had never hit anyone in her life, but there was something about Hawk which caused her to act irrationally. The man infuriated her
and
turned her on at the same time, which was a bit unnerving, to say the least. When Trevor had cheated on her and broke her heart, she had been crushed and disappointed, but she’d never felt the urge to physically attack him.

Hawk brought out the best and the worst in her, and he turned her life into an out-of-control roller coaster. She couldn’t wait until she finished his case. She never felt such a strong draw to anyone before, and it seemed surreal to her at times. Reminding herself that they belonged to different worlds had become her new norm: his universe was dangerous, rough, and demanded raw emotion while hers was safe, refined, and expected gentle feelings. Surviving in each other’s worlds didn’t seem possible.

Cara looked at her phone and saw it was five o’clock.
Crap, I have to meet Sherrie in thirty minutes.
As she put the last touches of gloss on her berry-stained lips, the doorbell rang. Before opening the door, she peered through the peephole and saw Hawk standing on her porch.

What in the hell is he doing here?
Her pulse started racing, her stomach queasy. She opened the door and he stood in front of her with papers in his hand. The late-afternoon sun made his hair shine like spilled black ink. He wore his cut, and a tight sleeveless t-shirt which revealed sculpted biceps with armband tribal tattoos. When he moved his arm, his fierce-looking hawk tattoo came to life, and Cara stared at it in fascination.

“I brought the papers by like you wanted,” he said.

“Oh, okay, thank you. You didn’t have to come over. You could’ve dropped them off at the office.”

“I was in the neighborhood. Doesn’t your proper upbringing tell you to invite me in?”

She smiled. “I would, but I’m going out. I’m leaving right now.”

His jaw clenched and his eyes hardened. “Like that?”

“Like what?”

“You’re going out dressed like
that
?” His eyes ran up and down her body encased in a form-fitting black dress. He shook his head. “You’re
not
going out like that.”

Her eyes bulged. “What? Where do you get off telling me what I can wear?”

“No woman of mine is going to let another man see her sexy body.”

“Well, that’s easy. I’m not
your
woman, so none of your business.”

She grabbed her purse, closed the front door, and pushed him out of her way. As she marched past him, his powerful arm yanked her into a wall of muscle. He grabbed a fistful of hair, jerked her head back, and crushed her lips with his; his kiss punishing and angry as he sucked and nipped her lips. Twisting, Cara sought to break free, but his arms, like vises, held her in place, making her a victim to his sensuous lips and plunging tongue.

Again, her body betrayed her and she leaned in to him, her tongue dancing with his as her legs shook and her thighs clenched together. As a delicious shudder heated her body, her heart hammered, her pulse leapt with excitement, and dampness coated her panties.
Damn him. Damn this body. I have to get out of here.