Page 12 of Dove
I slant my eyes quickly from the men in the unfamiliar vests to the other side of the parking lot, and there I see faces I know. Mars, Dutch, and Orion, to start, and their crew behind them.
What the fuck is going on here? Is this some sort of turf war? And where did that other gang come from? We're too far from anything to be a stop on someone's road trip.
Either they had Hawke's Wood as their destination or they're lost, and have decided to start a fight with Mars and his club in retaliation.
Neither of those things make sense.
Then I see one more member of the conflagration.
And he also doesn't make sense.
He's striding along the outside of the crowd, his hand on his gun and his face creased in a scowl, his hat drawn low over his head. On his chest sits a bright, shiny new sheriff's badge.
Barrett Hawke.
Or, as he expects Sammy and me to call him, Dad.
"Shit," I breathe.
"Exactly what we don't need," Sammy replies.
I don't have to ask what she means. Barrett–Bear to those who know him best–has been back in town for a total of three months, and he's already done everything he can do to make himself unwelcome. His brother doesn't like him, his cousins barely tolerate him, and I think he's already slept with half the women in town.
Which is impressive, given he's also been hired as town sheriff, and is supposed to be working long hours keeping the peace. Or something like that.
Instead, he's blown into town with a chip on his shoulder the size of the mountain we live on, and though he grew up here, he's taken to treating everyone in town like they're strangers.
Like they've already rejected him and he's bitter about it.
He's not doing much better with Sammy and me, if I'm being honest. I don't like him on principle, because he's deserted me twice, but Sammy?
Well...
Let's just say the girl has made it her personal mission to piss him off in every way possible. And she's alarmingly good at it.
A beat passes as I let up on the gas, half curious about what's going on and what Bear is going to do about it. He might be sheriff here but he's also only one man. With one gun, and a huge ego.
There's no way he's going to get out of whatever this is alive.
"Well, are we going to save him?" Sammy suddenly asks.
I slant a glance in her direction, surprised, because I wouldn't have pinned her as a Saving Bear sort of person. But her tiny hands are curled into fists and her face has taken on an intense scowl.
She'd almost look scary, if she wasn't the approximate height of an oversized squirrel.
She hates Bear with every ounce of her being, and yet here she is, ready to go into battle for him. And Christ, I love that about her.
I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't. I shouldn't even think of the word 'love' in relation to her.
But that's never stopped me.
"Think we should?" I ask quickly.
Because it's Bear, after all. He hasn't exactly done anything to endear himself to us.
She shoots a narrow-eyed glare in my direction, though, and that's answer enough for me. Sammy has decided we should,and that's all I need to know. I jam my foot down on the gas pedal, jump the sidewalk, and screech to a halt.
And then we're both out and running for Bear.
