The next morning, a low, thick fog creeps into town. It hovers just outside Hawk’s bedroom window like a weird, creepy spy.

The unsettling weather does nothing to kill Hawk’s good mood, though. When I finally emerge out of my own fog of sleep, he’s already awake, propped up on his elbow as he stares down at me.

“Finally,” he grins. “I’m fucking starved. Let’s go have breakfast.”

It’s a completely surreal experience riding a motorcycle through the fog. From my vantage point on the back of the bike, I can’t see anything at all, so visually it seems like we’re standing still. And yet my body can feel that we’re moving through the thickened air. It’s almost like what I’d imagine teleporting would feel like.

Seemingly by magic, we arrive in the nearly deserted parking lot of a neon-lit diner called Bucky’s. I’ve never seen the place before, which adds to my sense of disorientation. Hawk waits for me to get off the bike, then takes my hand and leads me toward the building, which is actually an old train car. We walk past the long counter and slide into one of the only booths, toward the back. A waitress comes and brings us water and menus. I order coffee, orange juice, and French toast. Hawk orders a combo breakfast that ends up being so big it would last me for three meals.

I realize as we sit there that Hawk and I haven’t really had a lot of casual chats since I met him. But somehow, the conversation flows completely naturally between us. He asks me about my life before coming to Tanner Springs, and I tell him about living in the city, my failed engagement, and wanting to make a clean break of things. I ask him about joining the Lords of Carnage, and he tells me about his early love of motorcycles, the modifications he’s done on his own bike, and his dreams of someday opening up a custom bike shop.

“Wow,” I marvel. “I had no idea.”

“What?” he teases me. “Did you think I was nothing but a hot piece of ass?”

I laugh so hard I snort, causing the waitress to look over at me with an amused quirk of her brow. “No,” I protest. “But I’m guessing there’s a pretty big difference between someone who knows how to fix broken bikes, and someone who can actually design them. Sorry, but that’s impressive.” I take a sip of my coffee. It tastes good after the chill of being out in the fog. “Is that something you’d do with the club?”

“Maybe.” He looks like he’s contemplating it. “We’re in the beginning stages of opening up a garage and repair shop. I haven’t really talked to the men about expanding it to include customizations. But it’s something that might work.”

“You should,” I urge him.

He frowns. “Maybe,” he says again.

We sit in the booth talking long after we’ve both finished our breakfasts — so long that the fog lifts, and eventually the waitress stops coming by to refresh our coffee. By the time Hawk pays the bill and we get up to leave, a few people are starting to straggle in for lunch already.

“You want me to take you back to your car?” Hawk asks me when we’re back at the bike. He wraps a strong arm around me and bends down to kiss me on the forehead.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I have some work to do today. Oh, but crap, I forgot that I left my purse at your place.”

“No problem,” he replies easily. “We’ll swing by there first.”

Now that the fog has lifted, it doesn’t take me very long to start recognizing local landmarks and orient myself on the way back. I lean forward and tell Hawk how I was completely lost earlier, and he lets out an easy laugh that makes my heart jump to hear it. I’ve never seen Hawk this relaxed before. It makes me happy. Like maybe I have something to do with it.

As we turn back onto his street, I realize I’m smiling myself — a big, face-splitting grin that’s probably due to a combination of delicious breakfast, a newly beautiful morning, and recent, mind-blowing sex.

If I ever believed in the dangers of tempting fate, it would be because of this moment.

“Shit,” Hawk spits out, his whole body tensing. I frown and lean my head around to see what he’s looking at.

Sitting in the driveway of his house is an old, rusted-out wreck of a car.

Sitting on the trunk of the car is a woman.

Sitting next to her is a small child.

The woman is thin to the point of being emaciated, and blond. Her clothes are too big for her, and look like they haven’t been washed in a long time. When she sees me on the back of Hawk’s bike, something happens to her face. Something ugly, and knowing. She slides down off the car, setting the little boy down on the ground a bit too roughly, and crosses her arms as she watches us pull in beside her car.

Hawk cuts the engine, his body still tense. “What do you want, Anita?” he asks her without preamble. His voice is cold with impatience and something like concealed fury.

She looks at him with disdain. “Well, I was coming here for a little help. Not that I expected anything from you.” Her gaze flits to me. “New girlfriend?” she snorts.

“None of your goddamn business,” Hawk mutters through clenched teeth.

“She’s not bad looking, if you like her type,” Anita comments drily. She turns to address me directly. “Honey, you’re wasting your time with him. He’s a pig. He can’t be relied on. You want my advice, you should walk away now, before you get hurt.”

“I make my own decisions, thanks,” I reply curtly, but inside my blood is running cold. Is this an ex-girlfriend? Is Hawk the child’s father? It certainly seems that way. But if so, how can he be so cold to them both?

Down on the ground, the little boy has found a small rock and starts to scrape at the dirt with it.

“I’m a little short on money until the end of the month,” Anita says to Hawk with a smirk. “You wanna impress your new girlfriend and help me out for once? Connor’s a growing boy. He needs to eat.”

Hawk bursts into loud, laughter. “Right. I don’t give my money to junkies.”

Anita flinches. “You see?” she says, turning to me again. “He doesn’t give a shit. He only cares about himself.”

I’m starting to feel nauseated. This is a side of Hawk I’ve never seen before — an angry, callous side. My breathing speeds up, and suddenly, all I can think about is getting away from this. From him.

“I need to go get my purse,” I say in a strangled voice, and rush to the front door, which thankfully Hawk has left unlocked. I run inside, grab my bag, and fly back outside and down the driveway.

“I’m gonna go,” I mumble to no one in particular, feeling dazed and unsteady. I practically sprint past them both, ignoring Hawk’s voice as he calls my name and tells me to come back. As soon as I’m out of earshot I burst into tears.

Everything I thought I knew about Hawk McCullough feels like a lie. Everything about the past weeks seems like an elaborate joke he’s been playing on me to get me into bed. I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been all this time, not to see something like this coming.

Hawk has a child. A little boy named Connor, whom he doesn’t even care about enough to help support. A little boy he doesn’t even care about enough to mention to me.