Keaston smirks. “Don’t worry about me, I got this.”
“You’re in some club like the Beasts, aren’t you?”
His eyes search mine, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just hums.
“Tell me,” I demand.
His gaze searches mine, then he leans forward, his face directly in front of my own, just inches away. I should feel something, I actually want to feel it right now—I need it, but there’s absolutely nothing.
“Do odd jobs, that’s all.”
Without another word, he turns his back to me and walks back over to the sofa, sinking down. I watch as he, completely unbothered, takes his phone out of his pocket and starts to tap at the screen.
“You’re not going to answer me, seriously?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Not yet, no.”
Walking away from him, it makes me far too curious that he isn’t telling me what he does. That he acts like one and dresses like a biker. He’s something, someone, but I’m just not sure yet. Then as I close the bedroom door, I realize that I haven’t been living in complete terror since he walked into my apartment yesterday—I feel safe.
HAWK
Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I sit up with a groan. My phone alarm has already gone off twice, alerting me to the fact that I need to get my ass up, and fast. Standing, I sway, still fucking drunk from last night.
A female groan sounds behind me and I turn my head, cringing at the sight of the naked cunt sleeping in my bed face down. I know exactly who it is, the memories of last night flooding my mind.
Fuck.
Sable.
This little bitch was trouble before and now? Goddamnit.
She turns her head to the side, her eyes finding mine, a lazy smile appearing on her lips. “Come back to bed, Hawk,” she purrs.
“No can do and I want you gone before I get out of the shower,” I state.
She pushes up, her tits coming into view and I can’t help but look down at them. Nothing prettier than a naked woman, dips and curves, full tits and ass. I fucking love it, no matter the shape. But this bitch, her pussy and body comes with claws and I want no part of that.
“Hawk,” she moans as she pushes herself to sit up and spreads her thighs.
I can’t take my eyes off of her, her fingers trail down. The center of her chest and her stomach, dipping farther until those sweet digits are between her legs, playing with that cunt that’s on display.
Shaking my head once, I snort. “Get your skinny ass outta here.”
Without another word, I turn away from her and walk into my bathroom, slamming the door behind me. Gripping my phone tightly, I curse as soon as I realize I haven’t called Avah to check on her again, and she’s yet to contact me back.
Inhaling deeply through my nose, I exhale out of my mouth and shake my head a couple of times. Setting my phone on the vanity, I turn and start the water. It doesn’t take long for it to heat up, and even less time for me to wash the stink of whore and booze away.
Walking back into the bedroom, I’m glad to see that she’s done what I’ve asked and left. I don’t know where she went, and I don’t give a fuck either. Dressing, I grab my phone off of the vanity and shove it in my pocket before I jog toward a hot cup of coffee.
Taz is standing next to the coffeepot when I arrive, he looks me up and down, shakes his head, and pours me a cup.
“Pinkie made it, tastes like shit.”
“It’ll get the job done, I’m sure,” I grumble.
Taz chuckles as he hands me the hot cup. “It’ll put hair on your chest, old man.”
“Got plenty of that shit,” I snort, lifting the cup to my lips.
Taking a sip, I cringe because he’s not wrong, it tastes like shit. “You good?” Taz asks.
Nodding my head, my eyes find his. “I want revenge and retribution, just as badly as you do.”
He hums, but doesn’t say anything, at least not immediately. “They’ll swing, Hawk. Nobody touches Trista, not fucking ever.”
“We can agree on that, son-in-law,” I grunt.
“Fuck yeah, we can.”
Neither of us says anything else, turning toward the meeting, we make our way toward church to start a plan. To create a plan that will work for all of us, that will give us the closure that we need and the body count that we desire.
The room slowly fills with members, but I ignore them, drinking my thick and terrible fucking coffee as I stare down at my phone. Touching the text icon, I find Avah’s name and look at the last several messages that I’ve sent her. They’re all delivered, though unseen, and there aren’t any responses.
Fuck.
She’s either pissed off at me or something is really wrong. No matter the case, as soon as this shit is done, this meeting is over, I’m going to head toward her place just to make sure she’s okay. If she’s pissed, that’s fine, maybe she’ll have angry sex with me before she tells me why she’s angry.
Before I close out my phone and set it down, I decide to send her a text.
DON’T KNOW WHY YOU DON’T RESPOND. ANSWER ME.
I watch the phone, waiting for the message to be seen, but it stayed unread and the anger builds up inside of me.
This shit is immature.
She’s immature.
I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s too fucking young for me, hell, she’s my own daughter's age, but for whatever reason, I thought that she was better than this. I expected way too goddamn much apparently.
I’m going to load up in the morning, head her way, fuck her one last time and be done. If she’s fine, then whatever is up her ass enough to ignore this many calls and messages from me, I don’t give much of a fuck. If she’s not okay, then that’s something else entirely.
“Brother,”
