Hawk

Yanna is at the gym with that hard-ass coach of hers, and only replied to my text asking her where she is very briefly, telling me she’ll be training until 7 PM. She wouldn’t answer my calls, which works out since I still need to track down her opponent, but doesn’t because I want to hear her voice and because it could only mean one thing — she doesn’t want to speak to me, because she’s very pissed off at me for disappearing on her like I did. But it’s gonna happen down the line too. She can never be a part of my MC life, that much I know.

Snake Bite lives in an apartment building near Yanna’s house which is a plus, since it makes visiting her less of a detour on my way there. I knock loudly once I reach her door, and I can hear the shuffling of shoes on the other side of it, then a pause. A second later she legit yelps and that must be the result of her checking through the peephole. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?

Heavier footsteps sound on the other side of the door.

“Who is it?” a man asks gruffly, trying to sound more intimidating than he is, I’m sure, since for one thing, I’m pretty sure this is her injured boyfriend.

“The name’s Hawk,” I say in as friendly a tone as I can manage, given that I haven’t slept in almost two days and I’d much rather be elsewhere right now. Even my patience runs low at times like that. “You don’t know me, but we have to talk.”

“Oh, we do, do we?” the guy says mockingly and opens the door. I was wrong, he doesn’t need to try at being intimidating. He’s a mountain of a man, at least seven feet tall and all muscle. But his left arm is in a sling and he looks very pale under that growling expression on his face.

I turn to the woman standing behind him. She looks kinda like a man too, although a much smaller one. I’d never guess she’s the one that made the yelp sound I heard before, it’s way too womanly to have come from her.

“I’d like you to fight tomorrow,” I say to her deciding to get right to the point. “The Russians are being dealt with. They won’t threaten you again.”

I give her boyfriend a sidelong glance, which is meant to be taken as, “How the hell did you let them get near her in the first place?” That’s how he takes it too, judging by how that growling expression of his grows a few shades meaner.

“What do you know about that?” he asks, just as she says, “I pulled out for personal reasons.”

I decide to just continue speaking to her, since I’m betting she’s the one I need to convince. It’s her career we’re talking about.

“I don’t know what they threatened you with,” I say. “But they’re out of the picture for now. Finish the tournament.”

“They sent you, didn’t they?” she snaps again. “I’ve seen you with Cat Fight and she’s Russian too. I was almost sure she’s in on this whole thing and now you’ve just proven it. She couldn’t beat me in a fair fight, so she set her Russian dogs on me. I won’t have any of that.”

I got nothing to counter this with, and going by the way her eyes are bulging out in psycho anger right now, she won’t listen to any counter-arguments anyway. I just hope she never voices her suspicions of Yanna working with the Russian mob publically. That kinda damage to a career is hard to fix. But then again, I specialize in fixing unfixable things. All my MC brothers look squeaky clean on paper no matter what they do, thanks to me and my skills.

“You better go now,” the boyfriend says and he sounds like he thinks I’m scared of him. Even if his arm wasn’t in a sling, I wouldn’t be scared of him. I’ve made enough men just about his size cry in my life to be scared of any of them.

At this point, it’s better they become scared of me. I gotta discourage them from spewing this shit about Yanna where anyone can hear it.

“Fine, don’t believe me. It’s your career,” I say menacingly. “But you’re right, I am working for Yanna, and I won’t allow you to ruin her reputation by repeating these accusations to anyone. She has no ties to the Russians who beat up your boyfriend here, and she got to where she is on talent and hard work alone. Whereas just by looking at you, I’m sure you’ve been doping like crazy, and I can and will find the proof.”

I put a lot of emphasis on the proof part and she hears it. Her eyes aren’t bulging quite so hard anymore, but that thick vein in her thick neck is still pulsing.

“So if you refuse to fight, it’s better that you step down quietly,” I conclude. “But no more talk of the Russians scaring you off, or that they’re working for Yanna, is that clear?”

They’re both so quiet I can hear a woman arguing with someone a couple of doors away. I came here to convince her to stay in the tournament, but this works too. I’ll just tell the tournament director that she does indeed have other reasons for pulling out.

“If they pressure you for a reason, say it’s an injury and that’ll be that,” I add, since neither of them are saying anything. “But if you say anything about Yanna and the Russians, I’ll make sure you never fight again.”

I don’t know how much more crystal clear I can make this. The guy looks about ready to try and take me on despite that injury to his arm, and the woman is shaking.

“Fine,” she finally says in a very faint voice. “Don’t tell anyone about the doping.”

“I won’t, as long as you stay quiet,” I say.

She agrees and I leave. I’d prefer for her to fight tomorrow, but I think I managed to save the tournament anyway, and that’s what I needed to happen. I stop on the stairs to call the director, because it’s hotter than hell outside and the conversation could take awhile.

It takes almost half an hour, but by the end of it she’s calm and willing to carry on as before. I’m good at convincing people to do what I want them to do even if it’s not what they wanna do. It’s my special skill and I’ve honed it to perfection during my time with the Devils.

Now I’m finally free to be with Yanna again and hopefully get some sleep too. But that’s secondary. I could stay up for another two days if it’s with her.

* * *

Yanna

“Let’s go,” Vlad says, coming into the back room where I’m watching yet another video of Snake Bite fighting. “I’ll take you home now.”

I was ready to go home two hours ago, but then Hawk texted and said he’s back and would like to meet me at my house, so I changed my mind.

His absence these last four days, and him not replying to my texts for the last two, threw me in a way nothing ever has, and the only way I’ve been able to get my mind focused back on the fights was to chase the thoughts of us being more than fuck buddies from it. Clearly that’s what he sees us as, why else would he just disappear like that? But it’s not how I saw us and that’s been messing with my mind more than anything else. I don’t do feelings well, but now he wants back in, and I’ve only just calmed down the feelings he stirred up. So I can’t let him or I’ll just have to face everything all over again. But how can I stop him? I’ve already been thinking about him the whole time I’ve tried to watch this video.

“Yeah, alright, I’m ready,” I say and slam the lid of Vlad’s laptop shut so hard he winces.

I’m far from ready, but at this point, I just have to trust that I’ll know the answer when I see Hawk. He has a life away from me. I know that and I can respect that. But I have to respect what that’s doing to my mind and my focus too.

Vlad seems tense and he’s not talking as we drive, but I’ve been snapping at him all day, so maybe he’s had it with me for now. He doesn’t get on the highway like I expected him to, but I guess that could be due to the heavy evening traffic. He’s driving fast down the side streets like he’s in a hurry, but slows down once we reach a quiet, suburban street, lined with identical low apartment buildings very similar to the one I lived in back in New Jersey.

After awhile, he slows down even more and keeps checking the street numbers, muttering them under his breath.

“Why are we slowing down?” I finally ask, since this is weird.

“Snake Bite lives in this neighborhood,” he says.

“So what?” I ask. “Isn’t Igor already stalking her?”

I don’t like that my promoter and co-manager is doing that, since I’d hate for the competition to do it to me, but they probably do anyway. It’s part of the game. I’d still prefer to stay as far removed from the practice as I can.

“He is,” Vlad says and looks at me pointedly as he parks the car across the street from one of the white apartment buildings. “And he saw something interesting this afternoon.”

“What’s that?” I ask, since he’s just staring at me and not volunteering the information. But the way he’s looking at me, I kinda already suspect. That angry edge in his eyes is the same as the one he gets when he’s talking about Hawk.

“Your new friend has been visiting her too,” he says, confirming my fears, just as I spot a Harley in the parking lot of the building across the street. Hawk’s bike. I recognize it by the wings drawn on the sides of the tank.

“I’m sure there’s a good explanation—” I say, but stop talking as I watch him exit the building. He doesn’t see us as he takes off in the opposite direction, the rumbling of his bike causing things to break and shatter inside me. Things I didn’t know could break.

“I told you to be careful with him,” Vlad says. “Seems like he’s the one threatening this tournament, not the Russians.”

I want to argue, but I don’t know what to say. It could be true. My worst fears about him could very well be true. But him stopping by this apartment building hardly proves it.

Vlad’s phone rings, startling me and making me shake, but it doesn’t pull me back to reality. I can hear him talking, hear him make surprised noises but don’t really hear the words, because my fears about Hawk could very well be true and the ferocity of just how much I don’t want them to be is making me deaf and blind, and unsure of pretty much everything but that.

“You don’t have a fight tomorrow,” Vlad says. “Snake Bite pulled out for personal reasons.”

And hearing that does pull me back to reality. To the awful reality that I’ve been duped and played by Hawk, and that I’ve jeopardized achieving the one thing I always wanted just because I liked the way he smiles at me. And the way he fucks me. I liked that too. What an idiot I am, what a naive idiot.

“I’d say that’s enough proof that he’s been meddling in the tournament, wouldn’t you? We’re not the FBI, all we have to know is that he’s going around visiting your opponents behind your back, and that they’re quitting right after,” Vlad says, but he didn’t need to spell it out for me, I already figured it out. And I don’t have to answer him either.

“Take me home now,” I say instead and after a few moments of staring at me pointedly he starts the car and drives.

Hawk will be waiting at my house and I’ll get my answers soon. Not that I need them. I already know enough. I almost sacrificed everything because a guy looked at me nicely and played me like no one’s ever played me before. I let him do that. But I won’t anymore. Tonight is the last time me and Hawk speak.