Page 43 of Hawk
“I hear that,” Storm muttered.
Crossing the room, I paused to look once more at Gemma’s framed photo. She didn’t belong on this wall. Not in this nightmare.
I took it, removing the frame so I could keep her close to my heart.
And left Darren in the wreckage of his sins.
15
GEMMA
The scent of cinnamon and brown sugar clung to the air, warm and comforting, even though my nerves were anything but. I hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours, too keyed up to rest while Hawk was out doing whatever it took to bring Ellen home and take down the man behind it all.
I finally gave up and crept into the clubhouse kitchen just after four, preheated the ovens, and started working. The coffee was already brewed, and three French toast casseroles bubbled inside the oven.
Callum had texted about an hour ago to let me know they were headed back. A hot breakfast was the least I could do for the guys after they’d been out all night to help me.
I sat at one of the long tables, stirring creamer into my coffee. Keeping my hands busy helped, but the waiting was finally over.
The kitchen door creaked open behind me. I turned and got the best surprise.
Callum.
The second I saw him, I forgot all about French toast and coffee.
He looked freshly showered, dressed in a clean black tee and worn jeans. His hair was slightly damp, flattened at the top and curling slightly at the ends, like he’d shoved his helmet on while it was wet. His dark eyes were steady as he crossed the room.
I slammed my mug onto the table, jumped to my feet, and met him halfway. “You’re back!”
His arms wrapped around my waist, and he lifted me off my feet. When he set me back down, he reached for my hand, curling his fingers around mine with a quiet intensity that made my heart skip.
Without a word, he turned and guided me out of the kitchen. “Where’s everyone else? I hope nobody got hurt.”
Callum shook his head. “All of our guys are fine.”
Fox walked toward us, shaking his head. “Except Wrecker.” At my look of concern, he added, “Not ’cause he got hurt. Just pulled away to handle something that I have a hunch is gonna rock his world.”
“French toast casseroles are in the oven and only need a few more minutes,” I called, wondering what he meant by that as Callum tugged me away.
Fox nodded. “I’ll make sure they get pulled out before they burn.”
Callum led me toward his room. The door shut behind us with a soft click, and it was finally just the two of us. Callum turned toward me and pulled something from the inside pocket of his leather cut.
A framed photo. Mine. Another one from my archive. Soft lighting, lace-trimmed lingerie, and that vulnerable strength I tried so hard to capture in others—reflected in me. The kind of photo I never would’ve shared publicly even though it was beautiful.
My breath caught. “You found him. Is Ellen okay?”
“Yeah, she’s good now.” He pressed the photo into my hand. “This was the only copy he printed. Deviant scrubbed everything digital. There are no backups. Nothing on the cloud. No drive that someone is gonna find. Just this, and now you have it.”
“Thank you.” I was touched by the fact that he knew me well enough to understand that I needed to have this copy. Just like I knew he would’ve wanted to destroy it in a rage. But he held back to give me what I needed. “I love you.”
His expression sharpened, his eyes turning fierce. Then he stepped in close, cupping my face in his big palms. “You’re mine, Gemma. Forever.”
I blinked up at him, even as butterflies took flight in my belly. “That’s it? I was kind of expecting to hear those three little words back from you.”
His lips twitched. “I can do better than that.”
He strode over to the desk, yanked open a drawer, and pulled something out. My breath caught in my chest when I realized what it was. A black leather vest in my size, with a property patch on the back announcing to the world that I belonged to Callum.
