“That fuckin’ bitch.” Muscles strained against his skin.
“You were so wasted you forgot to lock your door. The slut snuck in there early this morning.”
“She’s fuckin’ history.”
Kristy stretched her arms over her head. “I never liked her. She doesn’t know her place. I’m the head club girl, but she acts like she’s all that just ’cause she’s twenty-two and all the brothers are into her ’cause she’s new meat. She’s nothing but a skank.”
Hawk put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. “Thanks for telling me.” He stood up. “I gotta take care of something before I go.” He walked to the door and stopped when Kristy called his name. He turned around and looked at her.
“I just wanted to give you a heads-up that Doris was in here earlier this morning and Lola was making sure she was talking real loud in the hallway about you fucking Heather. I know Doris is an old lady and I gotta show her respect, but that woman lives for gossip and the nastier it is, the more she loves it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already called Cara.”
Knots formed in his stomach; he had no doubt Doris raced to call Cara. The woman never cared when something good happened to another old lady or to a brother, she only lived for the stuff that caused the biggest drama. And this would be the fucking atomic bomb in his household. He had to get home and explain it to Cara.
Fuck, I screwed this up. I should’ve gone home after the party, or at least told her I was too drunk to ride and was crashing at the clubhouse.He grabbed a few plastic bags, nodded to Kristy, and then left.
Climbing the stairs, he went to the attic where the club girls had their rooms. He kicked open Heather’s door and saw her and Lola sitting on the bed chatting. They both avoided eye contact with him, and Heather clutched her arms to her chest. Without a word, he opened her drawers and threw all her stuff on the floor.
“What’re you doing?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“Clearing your shit out so the room’s available for the next girl on the list. Your ass is outta here.”
Heather’s mouth dropped open and her eyes shimmered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“Sorry doesn’t even begin to cut it.” He threw dusting powder, lipsticks, and a mini hair dryer on top of the pile of clothes on the floor.
“Hawk, she didn’t mean—”
He stood cracking his neck from side to side, his feet planted wide. Adrenaline surged through his body and he knew if either of the bitches said another word, he’d lose it.
“Don’t say another damn word or your ass is outta here too,” he gritted to Lola. She hung her head and folded her hands in her lap. He threw the plastic bags at Heather. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to bag this shit and get your ass out. If you’re still here after fifteen minutes, I’ll throw your ass out and I won’t be gentle. Leave your cut on the bed.”
Lola glanced up at him and offered him a small smile that seemed to say she was sorry and grateful he was letting her stay. He clenched his fists. “And this is the last time you fuck with me and my wife. If you even think about doing shit to me or any other brother in the club, I’ll kick your ass out next.”
He stormed out and went into the great room, checking the time. He meant every word he said: if the club whore wasn’t gone in fifteen, he’d drag her out.
“You still here?” Wheelie asked as he sidled up to the bar.
“Yeah. I threw one of the club whores out.”
“Which one?”
“The new one.”
“She disrespect you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then her ass has gotta go. We got someone already waiting to fill her spot. I’ll let the brothers know.”
Hawk saw Heather dragging two large black bags behind her as she walked toward the front door. She didn’t look at Hawk, just kept walking with her head down until she was outside. Satisfied, Hawk slid off the stool and put on his leather gloves.
“I gotta get home. See ya.” He fist bumped with Wheelie, put on his sunglasses, and went out into the bright sunshine.
After switching off the motor, he quietly turned the doorknob and slipped into the mudroom. The aroma of warm butter and maple syrup greeted him as he heard the small voices of Braxton and Isa in the kitchen. Pulling his hair back in a ponytail, he walked in. Cara was by the griddle flipping pancakes, and Braxton and Isa were at the table.
“Daddy!” Braxton cried as he scrambled out of his seat. Isa laughed and extended her hands, her green eyes sparkling.
Hawk scooped Braxton up and kissed his cheek, then went over to Isa and grabbed her chubby hands. “Are you guys waiting for the killer pancakes your mom makes?” He glanced sideways at Cara but she ignored him, her eyes on the griddle, her lips pursed together. He sat Braxton back on his chair and went over to Cara. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he felt her stiffen like a board.