Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
I want Hawke. I dig my nails into his shoulder blades, feeling them shift beneath my hands as he pumps into me, water raining over us as blood washes down his back from my hands. It’s a fucking mess, and my head feels all over the place as I try to work through everything that’s happened today. But right now, I’m with Hawke, and he’s always had this ability to pull me out of my fixations and focus only on him.
And so I fall into a steady rhythm, matching his thrusts and kisses as he fills me with confidence for whatever we have to tackle next. Because the storm isn’t yet over, but I can depend on him to ground me.
CHAPTER 40
Hawke
“I’m a thing,” I announce to Ford, Eli, and Dutton. Dutton shakes his head as if he thinks I’m crazy, which I kind of am, but I don’t take judgment from them seriously since they’re just as unhinged.
“Okay, is that supposed to mean something?” Eli asks as we enter one of his many warehouses. When we walk in, Jared is tied to a chair. I was in such a good mood, and seeing him there puts an even bigger perk in my step.
“I was wondering what took you so long,” Dutton says under his breath. I was only an hour late, but there was no fucking way I was leaving Ivy by herself until I claimed her as mine all over again. I left her at my house, running her a hot bath before promising I’d be back. I swear to God, if she runs out on me, I’ll be banging down her apartment door.
Jared begins to struggle against his restraints. The wound to his stomach has been somewhat bandaged, but he’s sweating and looking an interesting shade of green.
“You know, like you and Jewel. We’re a thing,” I tell him proudly.
Ford starts laughing, and I smile big at Eli, who takes a moment to realize what I’m saying. “Is Ivy aware of this?”
“I’m also guessing it’s with Ivy?” Ford says.
“Of course it is,” I tell him. “Who else would it be?”
“Just wanted to check. You never really know with you,” my brother replies.
“Yep, a thing.” I nod in acknowledgment. Did I ever think Ivy would ask me to be a thing? No, but I had high fucking hopes, and now I’m not letting her go anywhere. “Yeah, we talk, you know, not just fuck. Although that’s one of my favorite things to do with her, and–”
Dutton cuts me off. “Okay, so you’re exclusive with Ivy; that’s what you’re saying,” Dutton clarifies as if I wasn’t making any sense. “I have somewhere to be, so if we can torture this fucker now, that’d be great.”
“Way to rain on my parade.” I sulk as I crack my knuckles and loom over the little man about to shit himself in the chair. “Listen here, you piece of shit. You’re lucky. I’m in a very good mood at the moment. Make it easy for me. Give me the name of your employer, and instead of killing you, I’ll beat you into a vegetable that will kindly be handed over to the police, with whom you might live another day. Behind bars.”
He spits at my shoes, and my smile grows. “Excellent.” I punch him in the face, and he falls over, skidding a little along the cement floor. He gasps in pain as I pull him back up and repeat the process. Hit after hit after hit. I’m not even using my gloves this time because I want to feel his blood running between my fingers.
He tried to hurt Ivy. Tried to drug her. As if I’d ever let some asshole like this live. I don’t care what agreement Ivy made with Braxton. And I’m pretty sure Eli doesn’t either. Sure, Ivy might be upset, but we don’t need to hand him over. The moment we’re given a name, that’s all we need.
“Hawke,” Eli says my name, and it’s the only thing I need to hear to clip my raging thoughts and keep me from hitting Jared again. I sit him upright in the chair. He’s missing a few teeth, and bruises begin to swell on his face.
He’s gasping for breath.
“A name?” Eli repeats, adjusting his suit. “Or I hand you over to my cousin here, who enjoys writing messages into the chests of men like you.”
Dutton smiles, and it’s fucking terrifying when his mask slips as he comfortably flips a knife through the air. And I’m not in a particular mood to share.
“Waylon Striker,” the man is quick to say.
“From the Boston Delinquents?” I skeptically ask as I turn to Eli.
Eli shakes his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. We’ve reached a mutually beneficial agreement with them in the last year. I know Waylon; he’s above petty shit like this and doesn’t stand for hurting women.”