Hawk

I lied to Yanna last night saying I had nowhere to stay. I could’ve stayed at our HQ here in Vegas, or The Vegas Clubhouse, as we call it. This is where the rest of my brothers spent last night. It’s all locked up and silent now, but I can smell the spilt booze, stale cigarette smoke and other scents of what must’ve gone on in there last night out in the parking lot, where I have to bang on the door for a good ten minutes before someone answers it. I didn’t expect it to be locked, and someone is supposed to be up at all times, but clearly that’s not the case this morning.

A very grumpy looking guy with his eyes still closed finally does so. His eyes widen quick, and the cursing he must’ve engaged in since my knocks woke him cuts off abruptly once he recognizes me.

“Yeah, I know it’s early, Ink,” I say, since I’m not one to make enemies where I could be making allies, and I know how annoying it is to be woken up early after a late night. Ink hasn’t been with us for long, and you’d think he got that name of his due to having too many tats, but no, he got it because he’s something of a poet when he speaks. Either way, he’s one of my best guys for efficient surveillance, and he was up most of the night following the Russians around on my orders, so I can get over him cursing me out now. “The others are all still asleep?”

“Cross left last night, but the rest of them are sleeping upstairs, yeah,” Ink tells me.

“Good, you can go back to sleep too, but I want a meeting at two. Tell the others too,” I say. He assures me he will and I head upstairs to my room.

The Vegas Clubhouse used to be more of a safe house than anything else back in the day, but now that we’re transitioning to running guns, its significance is rising. We’re gonna set it up as a local hub here in Vegas, where it looks like we’re gonna be doing a lot of our business. Most of the younger brothers would love to stay here permanently, since Sin City is a lot funner than Pleasantville where our main HQ is, but I doubt Cross is gonna want a bunch of wild youngsters overseeing things here. I think I’ll volunteer for the position now that Yanna’s here.

I do have another job to do here, which is more important though. But first I’ll get some more sleep. Between being unable to fall asleep wondering if Yanna likes to sleep naked, and her waking me up at dawn to go jogging, I didn’t get more than a couple hours last night. The night before while we set up that first meeting with the Russians wasn’t any better.

But my nap doesn’t last long. It’s like I just fell asleep when a loud knock wakes me, followed by Tank’s equally loud voice calling my name.

“Yeah, come in,” I yell, though I’m not sure that’s what he was actually asking.

“How was the fight last night?” he asks as he enters. “Did they have to chase you out of the dressing rooms afterwards?”

He sits on the chair by the desk that has all my tech gear on it, so I’m assuming he came here with a purpose to tell me something, not just to wake me up and make a bunch of sarcastic comments. But with Tank, one can never be too sure that’s not the sum total of his plans.

“Did Cross come to a decision about the Russians last night?” I ask him. I expected Cross to be here this morning to tell me what he decided to do, but I assume he left Tank to do that.

He nods. “Cross said we’ll give them a third of what they want for now and then go from there. He’s coming back down here in a week to inform them of this. In the meantime, he wants you to set up bullet-proof surveillance on them so we’ll know the second they try to go to someone else for the guns once they find out they’re not getting what they wanted from us.”

“Yeah, I’m on it,” I say and get up to open the blinds. It was a waste of my time, since the window itself is too grimy to let in any light. I like staying at the clubhouses, like the wild and free and fuck-it-all vibe they all share, but there’s something to be said for comfort and cleanliness too. Living at Sanctuary for all these years has spoiled me. “I figure if they want the guns real bad they’ll go to the Vagos for them. If they haven’t already.”

The Vagos are a mostly Mexican MC based in Arizona, a kind of extension of the Mexican cartel in the US, and they’re always angling to get more business where weapons are concerned. The Vipers had constant problems with them while they were still in charge of the weapons operation we’re running now, and it’s Cross’ hope we haven’t inherited those problems along with the weapons, when we took it over. They’ve been docile for now, but that can change in a flash with guys like them, especially since I don’t yet have any informants in their ranks to give us some warning. It’s something I’ve been trying to remedy for years, but the Mexicans are all about loyalty. None of them talk to outsiders, not even the wives and the whores.

“Cross wouldn’t like that,” Tank says. “And I don’t like it much either. But I doubt he’s gonna start a war over it.”

We’ve just come out of a year-long war with Satan’s Spawn MC, or rather a year-long annihilation of that club. None of us are gonna come out and say that we need a break, but most of us are thinking it.

“From what I know so far, the Russians are looking to get in on the action of fixing fights,” I add.

“You saw something last night?” Tank perks up.

“Maybe,” I say and start unpacking my stuff. “I saw them talking to the winner after the fight, and it didn’t look like they were friends. Maybe Yuri’s telling the truth, and they’re just here to get in on the small shit.”

I could tell Tank about the job I agreed to do for Yanna, he’s my VP after all, but then again, my main goal for now is keeping her safe and getting on her good side, so that fucking her will be that much sweeter when it finally happens.

“That’d make it easier on us,” Tanks says, smacks his hands against his knees and gets up. “I’m heading back to Sanctuary now.”

“Who’s coming down to help out?” I ask.

I already brought the team I normally use, but I’m gonna need more guys than that to keep an eye on fifty Russians in Vegas. Cross will send them down today.

“There’s no shortage of volunteers. Ice and Barbie want to spend some time in Vegas,” Tank says. “And Scar will be available if you need him. Beyond that, I don’t know.”

He leaves, and since it’s almost two PM, I go round up my guys for a meeting. It’ll be a short one, because I still have to shower and change before I go back out to meet Yanna.

She might tell me our deal’s off when I do. Not that that’s gonna stop me from shadowing her anyway, and making sure the Russians don’t destroy all she’s been trying to achieve. She’s the real deal, the what-you-see-is-what-you-get-type and apart from my MC brothers, I’ve met very few such people in my life, even though it’s all I’ve ever looked for. She’s also gorgeous and just thinking about her sleek, lithe curves gives me a hard on. No woman before her has ever had that honor. So I’m not gonna let her go easily.

I’m also pretty sure fear of the Russians wasn’t the only reason she let me sleep at her place last night. If I play this right, I’ll be spending my nights in her bed soon. And I’m good at playing things right.

* * *

Yanna

Vlad had me sweating hard all day, and wouldn’t discuss either Hawk or the Russians, saying it’s too much of a distraction. But he did make a bunch of phone calls and whatever he found out from them has not made him very happy. It’s almost five and I can hardly stand up straight anymore. My next fight is in three days and that’s all I should be focusing on. But that’s not all I’ve been focusing on. I’ve also been thinking a lot about how I’d like to keep Hawk around even if he’s not officially my bodyguard. Stupid, girly thoughts of the kind I never have.

“That Hawk guy is outside waiting for you,” Vlad finally broaches the subject on his own while I’m getting dressed to leave. “But he’s bad news.”

I started getting dressed faster when he informed me of that first fact, but I stopped when he said that last.

“What did you find out about him?” I ask pointedly, kind of hoping that whatever it is will drive him out of my thoughts for good, but also kind of not. He is a distraction just by being around, but I like thinking about him.

“I couldn’t learn much about him personally, but he’s a member of Devil’s Nightmare MC and they’re about as bad news as any organization I’ve ever heard of,” Vlad says.

“Do you think they’re the ones trying to fix the fights?” I blurt out, since this scenario has been prominent in my mind all day in between lusting for Hawk.

“I don’t know. But they’re killers, mercenaries actually, and everyone’s afraid of them. But now they’re also selling guns to anyone that needs them,” Vlad explains. “In short, I wouldn’t put much past them. It’d be better to stay away from them. But you are your own woman, always have been, so do what you think is best.”

I hoped Vlad would give me a clearer piece of advice, not recap everything I’ve already been thinking about, and failing to decide on for a day and a night.

“Alright, I’ll see,” I say and finish getting dressed. I actually mostly just mean that I want to see Hawk now, and that’s so unnerving I ignore it.

He’s sitting on his bike, which is right next to mine in the parking lot. The shades covering his eyes are reflecting the gym behind me perfectly although in orange hues while he grins at me as I approach, and the whole thing looks more like something out of a movie than real life. Including the fact that he’s supposedly my bodyguard. That’s straight out of some Hollywood movie too.

“Did you have a good practice?” he asks once I reach him.

Somehow I managed to stop with plenty of space left between us, even though there’s this thing about him that just pulls me in like a magnet, and that’s not from any movie I’ve ever seen. Or anything I ever experienced in real life either.

“I did, and now I’m hungry,” I say and put on my helmet. “We’ll go to the Organic Garden for dinner and talk there. Do you know where it is?”

He shakes his head. “Can’t say that I do. But I’ll follow you.”

“Try and keep up then,” I say and get on my bike. “We’re going fast.”

The way he said that he’ll follow me made my stomach clench in a good way, because it kinda sounded like he’ll follow me anywhere, and the only other time I’ve ever heard that was from my fans online. But that’s not real, not in the way a hot guy saying it in person is real. Then again, it is just a bike ride to a restaurant so now I also feel like I’m losing my mind, and I had to overcompensate by being rude. The whole thing is made even more unnerving by the fact that he is one of my online fans. And I’ve kept that world and my real world completely separated until now. But the two collided spectacularly with Hawk.

I’m still no closer to figuring out what to do with him by the time we’re sitting in the restaurant, and he’s squinting at the menu like it’s written in Cyrillic.

“What are you having?” he asks once the waitress comes over.

“A bunch of things,” I say and shrug, before rattling off my order to the waitress. They serve Keto stuff here, everything’s organic and it’s been my go-to place since I got here. He’s looking at me like I’m from another planet by the time I finish speaking.

“I don’t suppose you serve burgers?” he asks the waitress who looks positively shocked and more than a little scared.

“Guess not,” Hawk observes after she can’t string together a response for a couple moments. “I’ll have that same kind of fish she ordered and rice.”

He closes his menu and hands it to the waitress.

He’s still looking at me like I’m from another planet after she leaves, but it’s a much warmer look now.

“What?” I ask, once it gets too unnerving.

“There I was, all ready to say I’ll have the same as you, but I don’t know what half of those things are, and I’m sure I couldn’t eat more than half of what you ordered anyway,” he explains and I can’t help but chuckle. I also blush a little.

“I eat a lot,” I say. “But if you watched my videos, you already know that.”

He grins. “I do. But it’s still refreshing to meet a real live woman who actually eats.”

“Women eat,” I protest.

“Yeah, sure, but rarely. At least that’s been my experience,” he muses.

“And you’ve had quite a bit of that, haven’t you?”

Whoa, what the hell am I saying? I shouldn’t flirt with him!

“Some,” he says. “Never quite found what I was looking for though.”

The way he says it makes it sound like now he finally has and I’m it. Never has a guy made me think that whether he said it or not, and he didn’t even actually say it. I know I’m blushing, so I grab my matcha shake as soon as the waitress brings it, and take a long gulp.

I’m supposed to be making a decision about whether to trust him or not. I’m not supposed to be flirting with him. But it comes so easy. For someone who finds talking to people hard, that’s all sorts of weird. But I guess that also sorta means I already made my decision too.

“My coach thinks I should send you away,” I say, and it makes the aftertaste of matcha even more bitter than it usually is. But I have to start this conversation somewhere and that’s as good a place as any.

“But he told me it’s up to you. So what do you think?”

He never misses a beat with his grin and his sly comeback, does he?

“He says you’re a mercenary, not a bodyguard, and I’m wondering if maybe you’re not just trying to get close to me so you can influence the outcome of the tournament,” I rattle off. There’s gotta be a way to get under this guy’s skin, there’s gotta be something that’ll throw him off his grins and sly comments, and I’m hoping that was it.

The first course of my dinner arrived while I was speaking, but I’m ignoring it, since I’m not hungry anymore. I’m not anything, I’m just nervous because I have to figure this guy out, and get rid of this tension in my stomach he causes. I have to stop thinking about him so much too.

He takes one of the salt-less, organic nacho chips and dips it in the organic guacamole sauce without asking if he can first. Then he crushes it with his perfect white teeth and chews much too loudly.

“Are you going to answer me?” I snap, since I’ve had enough of this. Of him. Of my indecision. Of this weird, tense situation he plunged me into last night.

All I should be doing is studying how I’ll defeat Lana “Arm Grip” Hamilton in three days. She’s more of a wrestler and I’m more of a puncher, and she’s the one opponent I’m most worried about in this whole tournament. Except that now, I’m also worried about the Russian mob fixing the fights. And about Hawk and what his plans with me are. And about the fact that I can’t stop thinking about him. Can’t stop picturing those lips of his on mine, and elsewhere on my body. And he’s just sitting there eating my dinner and smiling at me with his eyes, which are as intricately and deeply blue as the summer sky above the wheat field in the village where I was born.

Maybe the problem is that I haven’t had sex in over a year. But I don’t think having sex with this guy is gonna help anything. It’s just gonna make it more complicated, more of a distraction, because I know I’m just gonna want him even more afterwards.

“I didn’t actually hear you ask a question, but alright…” he says and grins some more.

“I am a member of a notorious MC and we’ve done plenty of bad things, but to the best of my knowledge, fixing fights has never been one of them,” he explains. “At least not legit ones like the one you’re competing in. We don’t cause trouble, we fix it, and we’ve been bodyguards, though I’ve personally always had more of a behind-the-scenes job in everything we undertake, so if you do decide to take me on, it’ll be a learning experience for the both of us.”

“But will it be a good one for me?” I counter and take a chip for myself before he eats them all.

The look he gives me has nothing to do with what we’re actually discussing, and everything to do with sex. I feel it. In my stomach. In my chest. In my pussy too. I’ve been around lewd, testosterone-driven guys most of my life, but I’ve never gotten all that from a look before. I don’t need this distraction! Not when all I should be thinking about is the tournament. But I want it. I want him. And that’s a problem.

“Alright, Yanna, I’ll be straight with you,” he says, and true to his word, most of the sexual tension between us fades, since he’s the source of it and he knows it. “My job is getting information about people and places, and I do a lot of that online. By hacking, you could call it, but I find that term a little basic and outdated. Either way, I’m at my computer a lot. Which is how I found you.”

He grins again, but I don’t smile back, even though it’s hard fighting it. His smiles are contagious.

Our main course arrives just then, but this time we’re both ignoring it.

“Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of research on the Russians you met last night,” he goes on. “And I suspect they mean to get involved in your tournament. What happened last night made that suspicion even stronger.”

“Is that just something you want me to think?” I ask, since he’s taking an awful long time giving it to me straight, as he put it.

He chuckles. “Fair enough. All I can say is that I’m telling you the truth. You can believe or not believe me. But I’ll do my best to keep them away from you like I promised, even if you’d rather not see me again. I like watching your videos and I like you. I did listen carefully to what you’ve been saying, and I know you only compete in fair fights or not at all. I understand that and I respect it, and since I’m in a position to help you out, I’m gonna do it.”

Is it possible to know if a stranger is lying to you? No. But I don’t think he is. In fact, I’d be willing to bet he isn’t. But I can’t know.

“You do understand why I’m worried?” I ask and it comes out pleadingly, and not sharp and to the point like I wanted it to. Damn those piercing blue eyes of his.

“Yeah, I get that,” he says and finally picks up his fork.

I start eating too. And once I do, I can’t stop, because I’m starving and aching all over, and tired like I haven’t been in a very long time. I have to focus on the fights. I can’t have any other distractions. And he’ll be more of a distraction lurking somewhere where I can’t see him, than right next to me where I can maybe figure him out in time. Those Russians are a huge distraction too. More than Vlad understands.

I grab the receipt as soon as the waitress brings it, and don’t listen to his protests about paying for dinner. Once we’re out in the parking lot I’m trying very hard not to look into his eyes, but it’s not easy. They’re everywhere and they’re magnetic and blue even at twilight. And I kinda feel like if I take him back to my new house it’s gonna feel more like a home, but that’s a ridiculous feeling so I ignore it.

“What’s your rate?” I ask.

He smiles. “So you do want me around?”

I nod. “I’d rather that than risk you being right about the Russians. So what’s your rate?”

“You know what, I’ll do it for free,” he says and grins wider.

“Absolutely not,” I say.

“Absolutely yes,” he replies. “It’ll be my one good deed for the year, and I’m all set where money is concerned.”

I can’t fight the magnetic pull any longer and meet his eyes. They’re so serene and so vast and so damn sunny, I’m having trouble coming up with a counterargument.

“You’re not making it easy keeping this professional,” I say.

He chuckles. “Why does money have to change hands for things to be professional?”

He asks that like it’s not the first time he’s wondering this same thing.

“Because that’s how the world works,” I counter.

“Yeah, you have a point,” he says and laughs. “But you do understand that a bodyguard of my caliber, and with my kinda backup doesn’t come cheap. We’re talking thousands of dollars a month.”

That does make me choke a little, but he’s still grinning so I know he’s just joking. “But you’re a beginner and this is your first assignment. You said so yourself. So your price should be lower, no?”

He laughs, and it’s such a genuine, honest sound I’m even more certain I’m right to trust him. But I can’t know.

“Alright, let’s say something symbolic, like a hundred dollars a week?” he says and extends his hand for me to shake. I do so automatically, and the fireworks that go off in my body as our skin connects are far from symbolic. They’re very real and very confusing. And so damn pleasant I’ll remember this handshake for a long time to come, maybe forever.

“Great, now I’ll have enough money to pay for our next dinner,” he says and doesn’t release my hand. I don’t want him to either. “You eat a lot.”

I snatch my hand away, because that’s enough of that. I hired him so I could focus on my training and fighting, not so we could stand in a parking lot holding hands and planning our next date.

“I do eat quite a lot,” I say sternly. “ And now I need to go home and rest. You can sleep in the guest bedroom from now on.”

“Good, that sofa needs replacing,” he says, but I just give him a curt nod and mount my bike. That’s enough flirting. That’s enough talking altogether. I’m no good at either of those anyway.

I should’ve offered him the guest bedroom last night, but it’s on the same floor as my bedroom, and I wasn’t sure about anything last night. I’m still not sure about much, least of all the decision to let him keep staying at my house. But what good is a bodyguard, if he doesn’t stay by my side all the time. Right? I don’t know. But I do know that I want him by my side all the time. It makes no sense, but it’s very clear.