Page 37 of Hawk
“As Hawk’s woman, you’re part of us now. But I get that it takes a minute to wrap your head around the way this life works.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Like the whole old lady thing. I know it might seem outdated or submissive, especially when we’re dealing with other clubs who we aren’t closely tied to.”
“I’m not Hawk’s old lady,” I reminded her.
“It’s only a matter of time, and not that much if I had to guess.”
My cheeks heated, so I steered the conversation back. “I’ve noticed the way you let the guys take the lead in public.”
Molly didn’t press when I dodged talking about my relationship with Hawk. “That’s by design. When you’re out there with your man’s property patch on your back, you let him run the show. It keeps things smooth with other clubs and maintains the image. But behind closed doors, us women run our damn kingdoms. Don’t let the leather, hogs, and tattoos fool you. These men worship their women. They just don’t want anyone else thinking they’re easy to mess with. Their badass reputation keeps us all safe.”
That earned a small laugh from me. “So you’re saying I don’t have to stay quiet and sweet all the time?”
“Hell no,” she replied with a snort. “Just be smart about when and where. You’ve already got Hawk wrapped around your finger anyway.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks again. “I don’t know about that.”
“Oh, trust me.” Molly sat forward to tap my knee. “That man would light this whole town on fire for you.”
I looked down, twisting my fingers in my lap. “That’s kind of what I’m scared of.”
Her expression softened instantly. “Not because you think he’d hurt you, though.”
“No,” I quickly confirmed. “Never. It’s just that I’ve never had someone care that much before.”
She flashed me an understanding smile. “You’re not weak for leaning on him. None of us are. These men don’t want fragile. They want fierce. But they also want to be your safe place.”
I swallowed hard. “I want to be that for him, too.”
“Then you will be.” Molly smiled, eyes crinkling. “Just by loving him the way only you can.”
Her advice stayed with me all night long while I waited for Callum’s return.
14
HAWK
The roar of six Harleys split the night as we tore down the highway just south of Nashville. The wind ripped at my cut, flapping the leather against my back as the city lights disappeared behind us. Every breath I took was thick with the scent of damp asphalt, pine sap, and gasoline. But none of it cut through the rage burning in my chest.
We rode in tight formation. Storm, as our Road Captain, was at the front. Maverick and I were at his flank, with Blade, Racer, and Wrecker just behind us.
Storm's silhouette blurred in the dark, and Maverick rode like the road bowed beneath his wheels. These weren’t just my brothers. They were predators. And tonight, we were hunting.
At the edge of the city, we veered off the highway and rolled down a quiet residential street, then rumbled to a stop in the gravel drive of a small craftsman-style home. It belonged to one of Deviant’s contacts—a quiet tech guy who owed us more favors than he could count. We parked the bikes out of sight, ditched the open gear, and loaded into two matte-black surveillance vans. I climbed in with Storm and Maverick, and the doors shut behind us with a dull thunk.
The smell of oil, leather, and gunpowder filled the cramped van. The air inside was thick with tension, and Maverick was the first to break the silence. “You look like you’re ready to snap someone’s spine with your bare hands.”
I didn’t glance up from the fresh magazine I was sliding into my Glock. “That’s the fucking plan.”
Storm snorted from the driver’s seat, hands light on the wheel like he was back in the desert. “Try not to shoot Darren until we find the servers.”
“Or Ellen,” Maverick added, fitting his comm into place. “Let’s not forget the point of this.”
“She’s first priority,” I growled.
The comm cracked to life. “Boys,” Deviant said, smooth and dry, “you’re on camera. Mansion’s lit like a Vegas high-roller party. I count three dozen guests already. More arriving.”
“Status inside?” Storm asked.
“Security’s thick but sloppy. Standard bodyguard rotation. No sight of Ellen yet, but I’ve been watching that kitchen elevator. It goes somewhere I can’t follow on the security cameras. Has to be underground. That’s where the rot is.”
