Page 56 of Single Mom's Biker Brigade
Diesel stood on the back porch, arms extended over his head as he drilled a camera mount into the corner. He caught me looking but didn’t explain or even stop as Hawk and I walked past.
“There are some changes to the rules since you were here.” Hawk bent and plucked a blade of grass from the fenceline that now sported a shiny gate at the far end where the backroad met the blacktop that wound through town.
“Oh?” I resisted the urge to cross my arms and go on the defensive. I’d lived that way for so long it came naturally, and while I needed to maintain my guard, it wouldn’t help if I pushed Hawk too far and he clammed up.
“You’re not here as the wrench this time. You’re here under our protection. I can give you access to the shop for personal reasons, but you can’t touch another member’s bike.”
Made sense.
Hawk stared straight ahead. That tiny little muscle in his jaw jumped a couple times, and he twirled the blade of grass in his thumb and forefinger. I remembered what those hands felt like on my body and my skin heated.
If Hawk noticed, he did a damned good job ignoring it. “And you’re allowed to invite anyone you want into your bed.”
I stopped in my tracks. “What the fuck, Hawk. Why would you bring that up? And why is it allowed now?” The fact I needed the answer more than my next breath said something about me I wasn’t ready to face.
Hawk turned toward me. “The rule existed because the club believed that shared attachments weakened command. They thought one woman tied to multiple senior members fractured loyalty and created leverage for our enemies to exploit. It wasn’t about you. It was about control, and I enforced it because I didn’t want to lose men. They wouldn’t follow a compromised leader.”
“So it was about me.” I crossed my arms, needing the barrier between us to keep my sanity. “What changed?”
“The threats changed. The whole damned county changed.” He took a deep breath that forced his chest out, filling the tight t-shirt. “I changed. I abolished the rule after you left and dealt with the fallout. Several men walked. One tried to challenge me.” The smirk and the fact he stood in front of me said he’d won that challenge. “I won’t pretend the cost was light. But the rule wasn’t right either. I’m happier with a smaller, sharper, and more intentional crew, especially when it means I don’t have to keep hurting you.”
“You didn’t hurt me.” I lobbed the words with all the force I could muster.
“I’m sure I didn’t. But just to be clear.” He took a step closer. “Consent is law. Women are not leverage. Kids are untouchable. Anyone who cannot live with those terms finds somewhere else.”
I turned that over in my head. “That doesn’t fix what happened.”
“No.” He didn’t flinch away from the heat I fired his way.
It took a few seconds to breathe through the tightness in my chest, and when I did, I realized that everything I’d built up led to this conversation. I’d expected to be dismissed again, my worries ignored.
Diesel moved in my peripheral vision, finishing up the camera and moving to the windows. He checked each one, paying closer attention to the single window at mine and Cody’s room.
“The Hellhounds are back.” Hawk dropped the blade of grass he’d been twirling and went still. “The fire wasn’t random and neither was the shot. Someone believes you have something worth taking. They knew your routine, and I can’t help but believe the tip Colt received that said you’d been spotted was meant to see if we’d come after you.”
I’d wondered what brought them careening into the lot just in the nick of time. No such thing as coincidences when it all lined up this perfectly.
I turned away from Hawk and moved toward the house, taking my time as I worked through what our future might look like if I chose to stay here. It could be this. It could be walks with Hawk and midnight kisses under the stars with Colt.
It would also mean stepping back into a life where people considered me a liability and tried to take away my choices. Hawk promised consent was law, but that kind of phrase usually only applied to the bedroom.
Diesel finished with the windows and moved on to the back door. He opened a new lock kit and tossed the keys toward Hawk, then gave me a slow look that burned every inch of skin it touched. “I have a new kit for your room if you want it. You can even watch me open and install it.”
That was what I’d needed, what I’d really been after all those years ago. This kind of honesty and consent, this option to have a say in my life.
“I need to check on Cody.” I almost reached toward Diesel as I climbed the steps. My fingers twitched as I curled them, the heady feeling of closure attempting to compensate for the trauma last night resurrected. “Cody needs to be in school next week. He can’t miss while we deal with all this.”
“We need to talk strategy for getting him there and back. I don’t want you out on the open road alone.” Hawk didn’t hesitate or back down.
I fisted my hands, curling my blunted nails into my palms so the pain sharpened and honed my anger. “I don’t need you running my life.”
“Not trying to. Trying to keep you both safe.”
Right. All the resentment that had festered over the years slid into something else. Something warmer and close enough to thankful that I tightened my hands even more. “Because you all did such a great job last time.” I hated the words before they ever left my mouth, but they were necessary to help me maintain my distance. “I never agreed to stay here. There are things I need to do. Cody and I will be fine at home.”
Hawk barely even blinked. “No. You’re not going anywhere.” He bent toward me until we stood nose to nose. “You can hate me if that makes you feel better. But at least you’ll be alive.” His phone rang before I came up with an appropriate response. He answered with a sharpness he’d never once showed with me.
A low, masculine voice cut through the phone, the words too low for me to understand.
