Yanna

He’s on my front porch, letting himself in when me and Vlad pull up.

“Want me to go in with you?” Vlad asks, but I just shake my head, grab my bag and climb out, slamming the car door behind me unnecessarily hard.

Hawk stopped unlocking the door once he heard us pull up, turned to greet me with a huge smile, the one that still wakes feelings better than watching kittens do cute things in my chest. But I don’t—can’t—smile back and his is gone too by the time I’m standing beside him on the porch.

“What’s going on, Yanna?” he asks and I like the way he says my name. It’s almost the right pronunciation, but just wrong enough to be unique, to be the way only he calls me. But all that ends tonight.

So I don’t answer, just walk past him and unlock the front door, leave it open so he can enter after me.

I don’t stop until I reach the kitchen table, but I know he’s right behind me, yet him wrapping his arms around my waist startles me all the same. His smell explodes all around me, that same smell of leather, and wood and open grassland that’s all him and that I couldn’t stop smelling everywhere in my house for the first three days he was gone. I imagine I’ll once again have to suffer that reminder for awhile after he leaves today.

I grab his forearms and free myself before he can turn me around and kiss me, which I know he was going to do and which a large part of my heart wanted to happen. Well, my whole heart actually, but I’m ready to see that for the illusion it is.

I used too much force freeing myself, more than he expected and it wiped away his grin.

“You have to leave now,” I say, my voice all accenty, because it’s the wrong thing to say, both as an opening to this conversation and in general. I don’t want him to go! But I can’t trust him either.

His grin is back. “If I’d known you’d take me being gone for a couple of days this hard, I’d do a better job texting you back. But I was busy with something important that had no bearing on you.”

“Didn’t it?” I snap. “Why are you visiting Snake Bite then? And why is she forfeiting the match tomorrow?”

His grin falls again, just disappears, his eyes dangerous like the sky right before a bad storm.

“The Russians beat up her boyfriend and threatened her,” he says. “That’s why she forfeited the match. I went over there to talk her into fighting anyway, but she thinks you had something to do with the Russians threatening her and wouldn’t do it. So I ended up convincing her not to say that to anyone else. It was the best I could do. And the lady organizing the tournament, she was ready to cancel the whole thing before I spent half an hour convincing her there was no reason to. So in short, I did all that could be done to save your tournament. You should be pleased, not yelling at me.”

I probably should be pleased, I saw no lies in his eyes as he told me all that. But what I actually am is panicked, so scared my whole body is tight. I don’t know who to believe anymore or who to trust. I don’t even trust my own intuition right now, the one thing I could always trust.

“Everything’s been so messed up since I met you,” I say. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. But I don’t think I can trust you. Not after the way you played me and not after the way you keep doing it.”

“Played you?” he asks, anger sharp and clear in his eyes. “I fucking went against direct orders helping you out. I’m going against some more orders standing here talking to you, trying to spend some time with you before I have to leave again. I’m not doing that because I’m playing you. I’m doing it because it’s the only thing I want to do. The only thing.”

He might as well be saying what I’m thinking. Because being with him is the only thing I want to do too. But that’s dangerous, because I can’t trust him.

“I don’t know anything about you,” I say.

“I don’t know much about you either,” he counters.

“You know everything, including things no one else does,” I say, that fact just dawning on me right now. He knows I saw Yuri kill my old coach. If he works for Yuri then I’m probably already dead. But I told him that days ago. If he works for Yuri I’d already be dead. That means he doesn’t. It’s gotta. But none of that matters. I won’t run and I’ll finish this tournament one way or another. But he has to go. He’s also dangerous to me in ways that have nothing to do with my career. He’s dangerous because I can’t run the risk of losing him. I’ve lost too many people already.

“Alright, what do you want to know?” he asks. “I already told you I’m with Devil’s Nightmare MC. I already told you I’m a hacker. I also told you my real name—”

“You told me your name was Darlington, but that’s the name of one of the richest families in this country,” I interrupt. “I think that was just the first of the many lies you told me.”

He frowns and shakes his head. “It wasn’t a lie. I am a Darlington, and I was set to inherit the entire family fortune, well the controlling share of it anyway, if I hadn’t left my home on my eighteenth birthday, because that kinda life was never for me. It was worse than a prison, especially after I got caught hacking into someplace I shouldn’t have and my father used the opportunity to try and take my computers away permanently. I haven’t spoken to him since, and I haven’t told many people my real name either.”

I no longer think he lied about that. You can’t fake the kind of conviction that was in his voice as he told me all that. Or maybe you can. What do I know? I’ve stayed away from people for too long to be able to read them well. I have no replies left, I just have the fear. The fear of being lied to and losing myself because of it. The fear of sinking so far into his deep blue eyes, I’ll forget who I am, stop caring if it is all just a lie, and then end up a sniveling, broken mess once it turns out it was. The fear that he’ll die and leave me all alone in the world.

“What I didn’t tell you yet is that I’m in love with you,” he adds after the brief silence I didn’t know how to fill.

I could say the exact same thing to him. Would’ve, if Vlad hadn’t showed me him visiting Snake Bite. But now I can’t know a lie from the truth. And I can’t risk believing a lie because this one would destroy me.

“Please leave now,” I whisper.

The silence that follows is as deep and dark as a moonless, starless night over the farm where I was born. Where my mother died. Where my grandmother died. Where I would’ve died too, if those two things hadn’t happened so soon after I was born. And then none of this would be. I wouldn’t be sending away the only man I’ve ever fallen in love with. I wouldn’t be trying to live up to the expectations of a man who died too soon too. I’d be free to take care of the cats on my farm and have no greater worry than feeding them.

“What about the Russians?” he asks in a broken sort of voice. Kinda like he expected me to say I love you back, not be sent away by me.

“I’ll deal with them on my own. I’ve done it before,” I say. “Thanks for everything you’ve done for me.”

Or didn’t do. But I don’t add that, because too big a part of me still believes him unconditionally, and I don’t want to continue this conversation. It’s too painful and too confusing.

“So I should just go?” he asks.

“Please,” I whisper. And a part of me is adding, “Stay,” to the end of that plea, but not the one that’s in control. Not the one that will risk nothing to continue as before and win this tournament, because that’s safe. It’s the one that wants to say I love you back because it’s the truth. My truth. But that’s not enough. Because it’s also a truth that could destroy me if I let it. Better to forget while I still can.

He tosses his keys to my house onto the kitchen table next to my bag, but I hardly hear the sound. I do see the sharp anger in his eyes. But I also see something softer, regret maybe, or sadness. Disappointment? I’ll focus on the anger. Those other things are no good for anything except more pain anyway.

But that’s easier said than done once he’s gone and only his smell remains to remind me of all the good things that could’ve been.

* * *

Hawk

What the fuck just happened?

I’d blame my lack of sleep, but that scene was surreal by any fucking standard. So what if I fucking talked to her opponent without telling her first, why does that automatically mean everything else I told her was bullshit? I was trying to help her. There’s ways to check what I said without just believing me. And she should’ve believed me. I’ve told her no lies.

Women! They’re all the same deep down. Granted, I don’t know much about them, but I know a lot about this kind of irrational behavior when they don’t get what they want when they want it. I’ve had my share of those kinds of tantrums when women I was fucking thought we had something more going on than we did. But this was different.

I was fucking willing to give her everything and she wouldn’t even listen, let alone understand what I was telling her. Who the fuck needs that? I’ve already almost screwed up the MC more than I’m willing to admit to myself because of her. And for what? So she can turn into an icy bitch the second I don’t give her exactly what she wanted. Fuck that. I’m better off alone, always was. Following her and watching all those videos of hers totally blinded me to the fact that she’s just like all the rest.

She can handle the Russians on her own, she says? Hell, I’m almost pissed off enough to let her try. I could tell my brothers to stop shadowing her and let whatever plans the Russians have for her play out as they will.

But vindictiveness has never been one of my vices, whereas completing any job I take on to perfection always was. She can’t handle the Russians on her own and even though they’ll likely be too busy with us to mess with her in the coming days, I’ll still give her the protection I promised her.

But it’s for the best we never see each other again. She messed me up more than I messed her up. I almost blew this entire weapons deal, and almost let the Russians and the Mexicans become a real fucking threat to us in the process. All because I couldn’t get my mind off her. But I can stop thinking about her. She’s just another easy lay under all that toughness of hers. She’s not the woman I’ve been searching for. A woman like I need most likely doesn’t exist. And that’s just fine by me.

It’s time to teach the Russians and the Mexicans some manners. I could use sleep first, but Tank already sent a text that it’s on and to get my ass back to the Vegas Clubhouse. I guess we’re at war. And this time I won’t stay back and oversee it from behind a screen at a safe distance. No, I’ll be right there at the frontline, fixing the mistake I almost made.

* * *

Cross spoke to the president of Vagabundos MC and made it no secret we’re going to war if they attempt to come against us in any way. The man assured him he doesn’t want war, but Cross isn’t convinced. He’s just willing to give him the benefit of the doubt for the time being.

But the Russians need to be taught a lesson sooner rather than later. No one messes with Devil’s Nightmare MC and walks away the winner. That was true before we got into the weapons trafficking business and it’s still true. But apparently we have to prove it again. And we’ll use the Russians as an example.

I’d be a whole lot happier to hear this before Yanna sent me packing, but I’m still plenty happy about it now. It’s a distraction. A way to not think about her all the time. A way to not wish I was lying in her warm comfortable bed, next to her naked perfectness, watching her green eyes watching me—eyes as vast as the steppes and forests of her homeland that I could get lost in for days, for years, until the end of time. Instead I’m lying in the hot sand overlooking the Russians’ weapons warehouse and waiting for the night to turn even deeper, so we can make our move.

So much for not thinking of Yanna. I’ve done nothing but that since we came out here to surround this place. This operation is simple and straightforward, no intel needed. It’s just a rectangular building in the desert that I found the plans for back when I first saw it. No basement, just a big room, with two smaller rooms at the back. If I had to research it now, I’d probably be looking up Yanna instead. It’s a good thing I don’t have to research it now.

Cross is giving the signal to advance, which is also good. I won’t be thinking of Yanna once the bullets start flying, I’m sure of that.

It’s pitch black in the desert, save for the pool of light around the entrance to the warehouse, where two guards are standing, one to either side of it. There’s another guy patrolling the perimeter, but he keeps chain-smoking so he’s be easy to spot. It’s clear these Russians have no idea how to secure a building in the desert. Or anywhere for that matter, judging by this ineptness before us. We have four layers of protection around our own desert warehouses, plus aerial, satellite shit I set up. There’s nothing of the sort here, I researched all that too. Taking this warehouse from them will be a walk in the park for us. But I still kinda hope bullets will start flying.

Cross is taking no chances with this job though. We have sixty guys with us, so even if the Russians have twenty inside the building, in addition to the three outside, they stand no chance. It’ll most likely all be over before they even manage to take the safety lock off their guns.

Four of my brothers have already gone ahead to take out the dude patrolling the perimeter. They’ll do it once he’s behind the building, and I don’t expect to hear a sound from that direction until they meet back with us after it’s done.

I’m advancing with the main party led by Cross. Two more groups of twenty brothers are coming in from the sides of the building. Cross will whistle like an owl when it’s time to rush the guards. Tank will reply with same if his group is ready. We got four snipers in the hills if shit goes wrong. But it won’t go wrong. This warehouse is as good as ours.

“Remember to try and let them live,” Cross says quietly once we’re a couple of paces away from the pool of light. We all know this is what he wants. We also know they’ll all die unless they stand down quickly.

Cross whistles and I tense, listening for the replying sound. It comes three seconds later.

Then we move.

It’s a delicate job, taking men out without killing them, so it’s Rook and Cross that move ahead to do it. The loudest sound that comes from the entrance to the compound is a gasp and then the two guards are lying motionless on the ground.

Cross waves the rest of us forward. We all know what to do. Some of the brothers will stay back and tie up the incapacitated Russians then carry them to the truck we brought with us just for this. By the end, it will be filled with the rest of the Russians hiding inside. They’ll either be unconscious or dead, it’s up to them. Then the truck will be driven into the city and Yuri will be told where to find it, along with a message on where and when to meet us to discuss the new terms of our arrangement.

I’m right behind Cross as we enter the building. The door opens straight into the main area that’s filled with the crates we watched them carry inside a couple of days ago. They didn’t unpack much, which is a good thing, since we’re taking everything when we leave here tonight.

The ceiling is covered with fluorescent tube lights, but only a couple of them are lit, and one of them is flickering, giving the place an eerie, underwater kinda look. Snoring is the only sound in the room. It’s coming from a chair in the corner, where a guard with an Uzi slung across his chest is sleeping.

The snoring is joined by barely audible shuffling of feet as we fan out across the room. I’m still right behind Cross as he takes out the guard. The only indication that he’s no longer just sleeping but unconscious is the abrupt end to the snoring.

A gun goes off in one of the two smaller rooms, followed by a muffled curse and a thud.

I’m not the only one holding my breath as I wait to learn what happened. But a few moments later, Rook comes out of that room.

“It’s all good,” he says. “The Russian woke up for a moment.”

And just like that, it’s all done. It took less than ten minutes, if you don’t count the hours we spent staking the place out. No bullets flying, but, as always, that’s for the best.

Then I’m riding in a pickup with Cross behind the truck delivering the Russians back to Vegas.

“Yuri and the rest are still partying in the Russian Room,” I say after checking the messages from the guys I left watching the Russians while we executed the job.

I was hoping to see a text from Yanna, but there is none. Maybe tomorrow morning…But no, she’s just like all the rest and I don’t need the headache. Actually no, she’s not like all the rest. Other women like hearing “I love you”, especially when it’s true, but she’s so ice cold she just ignores it.

“I’ll call Yuri bright and early to tell him where he can find his men,” Cross says, interrupting my boiling anger at Yanna. “Then I’ll set up a meeting to discuss terms. Find us a place that’s easily defended and far away from prying eyes. Something the Vagos don’t know about. They seem to be staying put for now, but that could all change by tomorrow.”

“Alright, I’m on it,” I say. I’m slurring my words by now and I have to really concentrate on the words I’m reading to not see double, but I got this. I’ll stay up a little longer to get all this sorted before I crash though.

“Get some sleep first, Hawk,” Cross says. “You did good these last couple of days, but I need you alert for the finish.”

He makes a good point. I’ve been awake for four days now, and I’m starting to lose time. I remember very little of the one hour ride back into town, and the details of what happened in the desert are already sketchy at best.

The only thing that’s still crystal clear in my mind is Yanna’s face and the sound of her voice as she told me to go. And that’s the one thing I wouldn’t mind forgetting forever.