Page 50 of Hawkeye

Mom rushed down the steps and pulled me in hard enough that my ribs felt it.

“Careful,” Calder warned.

“Are you hurt?” she cried, keeping her hands on my upper arms while she stepped back to sweep her gaze over me, head to toe.

“I’m all right,” I assured her.

Not entirely trusting my answer, she turned toward Calder. His nostrils flared before he explained, “Club doctor checked her over. She’s bruised.”

“Barely,” I hissed, elbowing him in the side.

He gently settled his palm over my side. “He never should’ve gotten his hands on you in the first place.”

“I’m sure you made him regret touching my daughter,” Mom murmured, hooking her arm through mine.

Thinking about his excellent aim, I glanced up at Calder. “You’d be right.”

A motorcycle rolled in behind the SUV.

“Stryker.” Calder looked surprised. “I thought we were meeting⁠—”

He stopped before he named the location.

Stryker killed the engine. “Wanted to check on Jacqueline before I head over.”

Considering his wife was seven months pregnant, I wasn’t surprised.

I squeezed Mom’s arm. “I’ll meet you inside.”

She looked from Stryker to Calder, then at me. “Okay.”

She went up the steps without arguing.

When the door shut, I turned back to him. “You’re leaving?”

His green eyes gleamed with regret. “The surviving men might still know where recently moved property went and whether anyone else remains active.”

“I don’t need the details.” I smiled up at him. “I trust you. And the club.”

“Got yourself a good one.” Stryker clapped him on the back as he walked past us. “Not gonna run outta here right away, so you have a little time. That package is waiting behind the bar if you want it now.”

I watched his club prez walk inside the clubhouse, my brows drawing together. “What package?”

“Something I’ve been waiting for the right time to give you.”

His explanation didn’t clarify anything for me, but he had more important things to worry about than satisfying my curiosity. “Do what you need to do. I’ll wait up.”

“Believe me, baby doll.” He lifted my hand to press a kiss to the center of my palm. “Knowing I get my hands on you when I walk back through that door is real fucking motivating.”

I brushed my fingers against his stubbly cheek. “I like the sound of that.”

“You’re gonna like this too.”

I shook my head, my brows drawing together. “Like what?”

He guided me through the clubhouse door instead of answering. Jacqueline, Bex, Tamsin, Dot, and Mara were already inside. Mom had taken a stool at the end of the bar. Stryker was next to his wife, his hand resting on her rounded belly.

He walked me to the opposite end of the bar, where nobody was standing. “Wait here, baby doll.”