Hiding Out (Hawks MC: Caroline Springs Charter, #2) (13 page)

"The cameras are hooked up to Dallas’s computer, dick," he barked.

Dive rolled his eyes. "Just playin'."

"Now's not the time," Pick said and gestured with his head to the computer Dallas sat in front of. He clicked on the mouse and the video turned to life. It was of Handle and Slit in the garage. It looked like it was just after closing time. They were the only ones left, but it was their words—not their actions,
their words
—that got my blood pumping for some violence.

"What the fuck you mean you're pullin' out?" Slit spat at Handle and shoved him back. "You can't pull out now, dickhead. Not only will he kill you, but he'd take your girl's life, as well."

"This shit is wrong. I said it all along," Handle snarled. "I only got in it to have your back, brother. You and your fucked-up, get-rich-quick schemes. Where did it get ya? Got any money yet? No, because a prick like that don't pay in money."

"It ain't about the money now. You know that. Can't wait to see Dodge's face when we take his life apart. He thinks he's hot shit being president now. He don't scare me."

"He should. You just got no brains for it."

"You sayin' you're scared?"

"Fuck, yes."

"You gonna rat out your own flesh and blood?" Slit asked.

Holy Christ, they're blood brothers.

Handle sighed and looked to his boots, crossing his arms over his chest before he raised his head and looked to his brother with vengeance in his eyes. "Don't have to."

Slit glared. "What you mean by that?"

"They have cameras in here. You just told them everything they need to know."

"The fuck?" Slit spat just before the garage door burst open and Dallas rocked in, gun raised, with Saxon behind him, also carrying a piece.

"Move a muscle and we'll fuckin' shoot," Dallas barked.

Slit looked to his brother. "You've just killed me."

Handle's wince was small, only his hard eyes never turned to regret. No, they were still travelling the vengeance wild ride. "You killed my woman," he uttered. "
He
took her a week ago.
He
took her so I'd keep you doin' what you're doing for him. He fuckin' took her from
my house
!" he bellowed. Pain and deep loss etched over his features. "He took her, broke her and then...fuck,
fuck,
I found out last night,
brother
," he spat. "He killed her. Killed my woman because of
you
. I wanted to kill you with my own hands, but I think the way Dodge will deal with you would be more enjoyable."

"You didn't fuckin' tell me. I would have got her back!" Slit yelled.

Handle snorted in disgust. "
Bullshit
!" he roared. "You knew. You fuckin' knew, you
sick cunt
. You knew he had her because you went to him worried I'd back the fuck out and wouldn't help with the delivery. I saw the tape, brother. I saw it and when he said he'd take
my woman,
you nodded. You fuckin' signed
her
death warrant right then."

A shot was fired. We saw Slit fall to the ground, his hand over his thigh. Before Dallas switched off the recording, we saw him turn to Saxon. As the room quieted, I looked to Saxon, who shrugged and said, "He moved."

Fuck me.

The kid was born to be a brother, like me.

Looking to Dallas, I asked, "Where are they?"

"Down in the basement. Muff is guarding Handle. Knife has Slit's room."

"Right. Pick, Billy and Dive. I need you lot to find out all Handle knows."

"Any way?" Pick asked.

"Sucks his woman got killed, and he's in this shit for havin' his blood brother's back, but if you think he's leaving anything out, get it outta him in any way you can," I said. "Dallas, me and Saxon are gonna go pay a visit to Slit."

"The kid?" Memphis asked.

Looking to Saxon, his jaw clenched, his eyes vicious, I also saw he wasn't a kid any longer. He may be nineteen nearing twenty, but he wasn't a kid.

"Yeah, Vicious is comin' in with us."

"Vicious?" Saxon asked.

"Your club name. You down with it?"

He smiled. "I'm cool with it."

Lan cleared his throat. "Time for me to leave."

"Yeah, brother. I'll get someone to call with an update later." He gave me a wave over his shoulder before walkin' out the door. He was a good cop—fuck, detective—and a clean one. Which was why I probably should've had him outta the room before I said the plays. Not that he seemed too fazed by them. He understood how it went down with a dirty brother, and he'd be the same once they found the dirty cockhead in the force. Though, for him to keep clean, he may need to call upon us to get rid of his problem.

And we'd do it. He had our backs and we had his. He'd proved himself many times. Even when he was in the law business, he saw Hawks was good, pure. We didn't deal in pussy, drugs, guns or other shit. We were on the straight and narrow. He liked the way we were and knew we'd do anything to bring justice to the fuckers who did us wrong. Even if that meant he'd have to turn a blind eye to something. 

I spun back to Memphis after Lan had left. "I want you to spread the word. Have a sit-down if need be, but tell the brothers what's going down. We had a snitch. I'm dealin' with it, and when I'm done, have the brothers walk through the room to see what would happen to them if they fuck with Hawks. This brotherhood is not about snitchin'. It's not about fuckin' each other over or playin' games. It's about loyalty, about trust. It's about family, friends and fuckin' hard. Living strong and finding our peace. Hawks
is
safety. Remind them of that after they've seen the room."

"Done," Memphis said.

"Let's get to it then, ladies." Dive smiled.

K
nife saw me coming, and he had the door open before I reached it. With a chin lift, I walked past him to see Slit sitting on a chair, his arms tied behind his back and his ankles tied to the chair. His head was down, but it came up with a smirk on his face when he heard someone walk in. I waited until Saxon and Dallas were in there with the door closed before I stepped in front of Slit. He tilted his head back more so our eyes clashed.

"Whatever you're gonna do will be nothing compared to what
he'd
do to me."

I shrugged. "We'll see." Glancing at his leg, I saw a white bandage wrapped around his thigh where Saxon had shot him. "You gonna tell us anything freely?"

"No." He glared.

"Be quick for you if you did. Less suffering," I offered.

"Get fucked."

My fist connected with his face, his stomach, the wound on his thigh. He puffed, panted and screamed, but it didn't make me stop slamming my fist into him over and over.

No one fucks with Hawks.

Suddenly, I stopped. His breath heavy, I could hear each intake he took. It was slow, pained. His eyes were black and blue already, but that wasn't the end for him yet. I drew my gun free from my jeans.

I needed answers, answers he'd give me. I'd make him tell me all he'd hidden while double-crossing his club. Hunching down in front of him, I offered again, "It can go easier."

Defeat shone through Slit’s one squinted eye. Still, the fucker had will in there, also.

The bastard had to tell me, and he would with his life. He spat at me, blood coating my black tee and face. The gun in my hand caused my palm to sweat. I stood, wiped the blood splatter from my face and threw a sinister smile at him. "Last chance."

He looked down, not acknowledging me. I lifted the gun slightly. His good eye tracked my movement to his left boot that was still tied down.

A smirk reached my face. I fired. Pain radiated through his features as he bellowed. Screams tore from his throat. My smile didn't leave my mouth.

No one. Fucks. With. Hawks.

"Next one?" I questioned. He violently shook his head back and forth. Now was the time to get the answers I wanted. Then I'd give him what he needed. A six-foot hole in the ground, with bugs crawling through him, making him the piece of shit he was.

"You don't understand. I do what I have to do, and I would do it again just to fuck up your life. You think you're too good, untouchable, but you're not. He's gonna come for you. He's gonna wreak havoc through your life until you have nothing, and I can't wait for it."

Shaking my head, I asked, "Who is he? Where does he take the women?"

An evil laugh burst from his busted lips. "Your worst nightmare." Without thinking, I aimed and shot. His other foot received a bullet. He screamed again. "Stop, fuck, stop. It's Baxter Davis, also known as Blade, and guess what, motherfucker? Bad shit will be coming your way. He's gonna take that black bitch. He's gonna ruin you and Hawks, so there will be nothing left for you before he takes your life." His voice was mixed with pain and satisfaction.

What. The. Fuck?

Baxter Davis.

I knew that fucker from years ago, during the time I was involved in backyard fighting.

Again. What. The. Fuck?

Through his good eye, Slit looked up at me.
He knows
. His time had come. I knew that was all he'd give, so that was all I'd get. The bastard was going six feet under. Tired, his head flopped down, his breath hardly recognizable. I pocketed my gun and walked behind him. Reaching into the back of my pants, I pulled my knife out. The blade came up over his neck. He didn't even move, the fight gone from him.

Yeah, he knows
. "See you in Hell, snitch," I whispered just as the blade sliced his neck. Blood coated his clothes then dripped onto the floor.

"You left us with nothing to do," Dallas complained.

Actually, I'd forgotten they'd even been in there.

"Do you know who he was talking about?" Saxon asked.

"Yeah," I started as I stood and wiped the blade on my jeans at my thigh. "He was from Ballarat. Before I met Talon, I was into backyard fighting. He was one of my opponents. He never liked that I'd win. He'd been undefeated until I'd come along. Hated I took the glory away from him. I also stole his girl at the time. Guess the fucker never got over it." I shook my head and grabbed the towel Dallas threw my way. "Knew he was a sick fuck back then. Was glad to take his woman away. I saw the bruises he'd given her. But fuck, selling women into slavery and waiting to cause shit with Hawks? He's not just a sick fuck, but a sick and twisted one seeking revenge after losing a fight I'd fuckin' forgotten about years ago."

"What's the plan?" Saxon asked.

Smiling, I said, "Find the fucker and eliminate him."

"I'll start a background check," Dallas answered.

"I want all the information you have on that dickhead, and I want it fast. This is the last time I hear that fucker's name and the last time he thinks he can play with Hawks."

* *  *  *

A
s I walked out the door, my phone rang. Wiping my hands on the towel, I pulled it free of my jeans and answered with, "Yo?"

"Mr Monroe?" a woman's voice asked.

"Yeah?" I said and kept walking down the hall, up the stairs and into the compound common room.

"Mr Monroe, I'm sorry to inform you, but your sister was in a car accident and she passed away."

"Who's this?" I barked.

"This is Jennifer Lucas. I work with Child Protective Services. I'm sorry about your loss, but I also rang to discuss her children."

Fuck.
Fucking Christ. I hadn't seen my sister in nearly sixteen years. Before I moved outta my stepdad's house, she was already gone. She was nine years older than me and hitched to some loser. She managed to stay with that loser for too many years before she left him. She’d had two kids in that time and, as far as I knew from the minimal phone calls we'd shared, she had no one else in her life.

"Mr Monroe, are you still there?"

Shit. My sister was gone.

Hell. She'd hated me because I was a biker, so we weren't close, but that loss was tight in my gut. Was that what Slit meant? Bad shit was gonna happen. Had they killed my sister?

No. Fuck no, couldn't be. He meant something else because no one knew I had a sister. No one knew of my life before I moved to Ballarat and Talon found me. My name wasn't common knowledge. Everyone knew me as Dodge and that was it.

So shit. Fuck. Christ.

My sister was dead.

"Mr Monroe,
are
you still there?" the Jennifer woman asked with an impatient tone.

"Excuse me for takin' my time while I
fuckin'
process the death of my sister," I hissed down the line.

"Yes, well, sorry." She sighed. "But I need to tell you about tomorrow."

"Is it her funeral?"

"Mr Monroe, I don't think you heard my earlier comment. I'm calling about her children. You were put down as their guardian. You need to come to Sydney and collect the children, sign some papers and help them see to the funeral."

My mind was blank.

Nothing.

Absolutely fuckin' nothing.

"Mr Monroe?"

"She left her kids with me?" I uttered.

"Yes. She
was
your sister, am I right?"

"Yes."

"Dodge." I looked up to see Pick had called my name. I waved my hand at him for 'not now', but he still walked my way.

Jennifer started talking again. "As far as I know, there is no one else. Your stepfather passed away a year ago and you're the only living family member left. But most importantly, you are in her will as sole guardian to Texas and Romania."

Texas and Romania.

What in the fuck was she thinkin' naming her kids that?

I knew she'd had them. I'd sent presents each time one was born, but they got sent back.

Why would she leave the kids to me when she fuckin' hated me?

"Mr Monroe, can I expect you tomorrow?"

"Yes. Text me the address and I'll let you know when I can get in." Closing my eyes, I asked, "Why didn't the police call?"

I opened my eyes to see Pick standin' there before his hand went to my shoulder. I shrugged it off as Jennifer answered me, "As far as I know, they did. They'd had trouble getting a hold of you, but I was under the impression they'd left a message."