Luisa
The club is full tonight. Women and children have all been brought here under the protection of the Blood Brothers MC. Jasmine has outdone herself, organizing for Trigger and Tracker to go out and get some groceries so she can do a big cook up. I’ve noticed Trigger has been extra attentive when it comes to Jasmine, and he’s always making sure she has help on standby. She’s made enough lasagna for everybody, and a mountain of garlic bread and salad. I helped of course, but I have to admit, the whole being the president’s woman sure is fitting her to a T.
Stacking the plates in the dishwasher, I hear someone enter the kitchen behind me. I pull up the door of the dishwasher, closing it, and go to turn around, thinking it’s Jasmine with more dishes. But it’s not, it’s Rhyder coming toward me, dirty plate in hand.
“Here you go, darlin’,” he says, placing it on the kitchen bench. “How you holding up?”
“Okay, I guess.” I lean up against the dishwasher, folding my arms over my chest. Rhyder is a good-looking guy, brown eyes, blond hair, a dimple appearing in his cheek every time he smiles. From what I hear from the other women here, he’s amazing in bed as well. I’d tried to block my ears when they were all swooning over Rhyder, but I couldn’t do that and eat at the same time. It was pretty obvious from what I heard that Rhyder enjoys threesomes.
“How about you? Are you doing okay?” I ask, and he smiles, flashing me that dimple. I can see why the women swoon over him, and he knows the effect he has on them. He’s wearing a wifebeater under his cut, showing off his muscled arms. He leans against the bench and crosses his feet at his ankles. “How was the wedding?”
“Beautiful,” I say smiling, remembering how perfect everything was.
“Are you gonna be right, Lu? You know, with all this shit goin’ on at the club?” His face is serious all of a sudden.
I look down at my feet, then back up to him. “Sure I will. If Jasmine will, then I’ll be fine too.” Rhyder straightens and walks over to me, stopping only inches away. I can feel the heat coming off his body. I hold my breath with how close he is, and start to panic when he lifts his hand and tucks a loose tendril of hair behind my ear.
I let out a shaky breath when I realize he’s not going to kiss me, and he smiles.
“What the fuck!”
I look beyond Rhyder. Hawke’s standing behind him with a look that says he’ll kill Rhyder if he touches me again.
Rhyder turns to Hawke. “Hey, man, just making sure your woman’s all right.”
I can see Hawke’s jaw ticking, trying to control his anger. “How my woman is feeling is none of your fucking business,” he says striding toward Rhyder. “You got that, brother?” He places both his hands on Ryder’s chest and pushes him.
Rhyder hits the bench with his back, and puts his palms up to Hawke. “Sorry, man, she looked upset. I was just making sure she’s okay.”
Hawke grabs Rhyder by his cut and pulls him up so they’re at eye level. “If you want to stay in this club, I suggest you mind your own fucking business.”
“Hawke! He was only….”
I stop what I’m about to say when I see Hawke’s look of warning. I swallow hard at the anger in his eyes, and decide not to test him.
He looks back at Rhyder and growls. “Get the fuck out of here,” he says, letting go of Rhyder’s cut. Rhyder straightens himself up and does what he’s instructed: leaves.
Hawke moves closer to me then, caging me in by placing his hands either side of me, resting them on the bench at my back. He’s so close.
Just as it looks like he’s about to say something, Trigger walks in. He stops when he spots us, his eyes shifting between both of us.
“Ah, am I interrupting here, brother?”
Hawke looks over to Trigger, and mumbles, “Get the fuck out, I need to talk to my woman.”
His woman?
Trigger smirks at me, then looks at Hawke. “Sorry. Prez, asked me to come find you, he wants a quick word. So sorry to break this up but we’re meeting in a few.”
“Fuck,” Hawke grunts out. He nods at Trigger. “I’ll be there, just give me a sec.”
“Sure thing, man.”
When Trigger leaves, my breath catches at the back of my throat when I see the intense look on Hawke’s face. He moves in closer toward me, then pulls the back of my hair, forcing me to look up into his baby blues. I gasp when he pulls even tighter, smashing my body against his. I can feel the ripples of his muscles against me as his chest moves in and out, struggling to control whatever this is.
I sneak my tongue out to lick my suddenly dry lips, and Hawke’s eyes follow the movement. Our lips are only inches away now and I’m silently pleading for him to kiss me. “You want this?” he asks as he leans in and traces his tongue along the outline of my lips. My stomach dips and I want nothing more than to suck on the warm muscle. I’m pissed at Hawke, but my body doesn’t seem to want to listen. It wants him, it’s dying to be touched by him.
His hand tightens and I feel a slight sting, but I can take it, I love this side of Hawke. His head dips and he sucks on my bottom lip. When he lets go of it with a pop I move in closer, trying to kiss him, but his hold in my hair keeps me at a distance. This is Hawke, proving to me that he is always the one in control. “I don’t like you being alone with another brother. You got me?” he murmurs against my lips. I take the question for the demand it is. Then he tilts his forehead and rests it against mine. “I gotta go, we will talk about this later.”
My mind is racing at a thousand miles an hour, while my body is still all hot and bothered. Wait a minute? He doesn’t want me to be alone with another man, yet it’s okay for him to be with his ex-fiancée? Rage takes over and I grab his hand from behind my head, trying to force him to let me go, but he doesn’t. His grip tightens. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Lu?”
“Nothing,” I lie.
“Don’t lie to me,” he responds, cupping my chin and forcing my eyes to meet his.
“Fine, you asked for it. You say you don’t want me to be alone with another man, yet you’re the one that’s been spending time alone with your ex.”
He sighs and let’s go of my hair and my chin simultaneously. “This again, Lu?” He steps back. “Look, Quill’s gonna kill me if I’m not in church, we’ll talk about this later.”
He starts to walk away. “Don’t bother, there’s nothing more to say.”
He looks around and smiles. “There sure is, and we’re having that discussion, whether you like it or not.” He turns and walks out the kitchen. I puff out a breath. Damn him, why does he have to be so hot when he says that.
“There you are, I’ve been looking for you,” Jasmine says while walking in with more dirty plates.
“I’ve been in here stacking the dishwasher. Here, let me grab them off you. You shouldn’t be carrying too much.”
“Are you serious right now? You’re beginning to sound like Quill.”
I laugh as I continue taking plates out of her hand.
Suddenly there’s a loud bang, and another, then one that sounds like it’s coming from just the outside the kitchen. That one has Jasmine and I running for cover. We duck and fall flat on the concrete floor, and that’s when I hear it, a loud cry coming from Jasmine. Gunshots begin to sound loudly, and I quickly move to hover over Jasmine, trying to cover her as much as I can, protect her from getting hit. Bullets shoot past and I duck my head even more. Tears are streaming down my face, and I can hear Jasmine groaning in pain.
“Be strong, Jasmine, be strong. I know you’re hurt, but I’m here. I’ll get help,” I say trying to get up, but Jasmine grabs my arm.
I look down at her face, she’s biting down on her lip, trying to hold in her pain. Her face is red and covered with a layer of sweat as she tries to push through it. “Don’t leave me,” she begs.
I’m torn between getting help for her, and trying to not get shot. Another bang sounds and I protect my head with my hands, leaning over Jasmine again.
Gunshots continue to ring out, and I hear screams and shouts coming from out front. “I’m scared,” Jasmine admits shakily, and I run my hand over her damp forehead.
“I’m here, Jasmine, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
My phone, where the hell is my phone? I remember leaving it on the bar before coming into the kitchen, so I could juggle the plates I was holding. I just need to get to my phone, to call the police and ambulance. The gunshots stop for a second, and I quickly whisper in Jasmine’s ear, “Jasmine, listen to me, I’m going to go grab my phone. I’ll just be a minute.”
“You can’t be serious?” she replies, covering her stomach with her hand. “Oh, God. Lu, I’m bleeding!” she cries out, and I look to where she’s pointing. Her denim shorts are soaked with blood between her legs.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Please God, don’t let her lose her baby.
“It hurts so much, Lu,” she whimpers.
“Shush, just be still, I’ll be back.” I lean down and kiss her forehead. “You’re going to be fine, and so is your baby.” I’m trying hard to not break down, and be strong for the both of us.
I can hear female voices screaming in fear, and then the gunshots start up again. I crawl on my hands and knees across the floor of the kitchen, leaving Jasmine behind. I have to do this. God, please make me get out of here safely and get Jasmine help.
When I’m out of the kitchen, I continue to crawl, keeping myself down low to the ground. All I can see around me is smoke and I begin to cough. I try to breathe but the smoke burns my throat, and causes my eyes to burn.
“Hawke!” I yell. “Quill!” No one can hear me, it’s so loud with all the yelling and screaming, and bullets that sound like they’re being fired from machine guns. “Oh, God, please let Hawke be okay.” I wait until the gunshots quieten down, and when they do I quickly crawl behind the bar, and slowly get up off the floor and stand. I bend my legs, still not wanting to be visible to anyone who might be lurking, but what I see has me close to fainting. Bodies lie on the floor, presumably dead, and there is blood everywhere. I try to make out who the bodies belong to, praying that none of them are Hawke, but just as I’m about to start looking for my phone, pain shoots along the back of my neck as someone grips it hard.
“Puta, you’re coming with me,” the male voice whispers in my ear with a strong accent. His tongue licks along the side of my neck, traveling up to my cheek. The smell of stale smoke and strong cologne hits my senses, and I feel sick in the stomach. Whoever he is drags me to the front of the bar, pulling on my hair.
When we get to the center of the compound I see members of the club lying on their stomachs on the ground, their hands tied behind their backs. The smoke is less dense here and I look around, realizing that most of the dead bodies must belong to the enemy since I don’t recognize them. Hawke and Quill are standing in the center of the group, guns pointed at their heads.
“No!” I scream out.
Hawke’s eyes look deep into mine, his expression muting me instantly. He’s begging me to shut my mouth, stay quiet.
“Ah, puta, which one is your man? I don’t see a ring on your finger, so I’m guessing it’s Hawke.”
“Let her go, you fucking asshole,” Hawke spits out, and the man who has a gun pointed at him knocks him on the back of the head with it, causing Hawke to fall flat on his face. He’s out cold, unmoving.
“Let ’em go, Santana, it’s me you want, not them.” Quill growls deep in his throat before looking at me, and then at Hawke.
“Ha, ha, ha. Look at you. You’re not such a big shot now, are you, mancho?”
“What do you want?” Quill demands.
“What I want from you, Quill, is for you to take over from su señor padre. I’ve grown impatient waiting for you to decide.”
Jasmine. Oh, God, Jasmine. Do I tell Quill? If I don’t she could lose the baby.
“Quill,” I say crying. “Jasmine…. Jasmine.”
Quill’s eyes snap up to mine, his jaw clenching. “No! Where is she?” he shouts.
“The baby… she’s bleeding.”
A gut-wrenching cry screams out of Quill’s mouth. “Please. Please let me get her to the hospital,” I beg this Santana man. “She’s in pain, she needs help.”
Santana smiles like it’s the best news he’s heard in years. “Of course, my carino. All I want from Quill is his word that he will be my distributor, and replace his father. Then I will let you get your friend care.”
I look back to Quill, who’s fighting so hard to undo the ties that bind him from behind. The man holding the gun on him kicks him behind his knees, and he falls to them. “You motherfucker,” Quill spits. “You’ll pay for this, if it’s the last thing I do.”
Santana laughs. “Ah, Quill, you seem to forget that I own most of this town.” He tightens his hand on my neck and I squeal in pain. He raises the gun to my forehead, the cold metal pushing hard against my delicate skin. I know I’ll bruise from the pressure of it.
And then everything happens so quickly. A shot sounds out from the floor, making me scream when Santana’s blood splatters on my face. Then Hawke rolls onto his back and points a gun up at the man standing behind him. But it’s too late—pain like nothing I’ve felt before shoots through me. Shocked, I look down and see bright red blood soaking into my white top; I’ve been shot. I fall weakly to my knees, then onto my side, the pain slicing through me. I watch in slow motion as Quill frees himself and grabs his gun from his jeans, shooting at the man behind him.
Gunshots are being fired, their flashes making me blink, the ground reverberating with their force, but I can’t hear a thing. I’m sinking and falling. Then I see Hawke hovering over me, yelling something, but I can’t hear the words. I focus instead on the tears brushing his lashes, and reach up to cup his cheek. I whisper, “I love you, Hawke. Always remember that.”
He’s shouting something back to me, but he’s drifting away as I feel myself falling. And then complete darkness is all that remains.