Hiding Out (Hawks MC: Caroline Springs Charter, #2) (3 page)

Memphis was a great president for the charter. He was a mean motherfucker when he had to be.

But I was ruthless.

If I wanted something, I saw to it and, if anyone got in my way, they'd better look the fuck out.

First on my agenda was to find the dick who thought he was man enough to play with the big boys and stab his brotherhood in the back.

Then I'd be dealing with some members of Venom. They needed to get the message that Hawks weren't to be fucked with. I'd relay that message any way I could—fists, knives or guns, I wasn't picky.

Dallas was keen to have my back and I was glad to have him there. He was just as merciless as I was. Together, with the help of our brothers who moved from Ballarat to Melbourne, we'd have the shit sorted and things would finally fuckin' calm down.

At least, I goddamn hoped.

After looking up at the hidden camera, I moved into the business side. Unlocking the door from inside of the compound to the mechanical area, I swung it open wide. It hit the wall with a bang.

That was when I heard it.

A small whimper.

"Hello?" I barked gruffly. Nothing but silence greeted me back. Hell, had I heard it? Shrugging, I moved over to the long metal table and dropped my shit down. Opening the bag, I took out the camera and turned, only to kick over a fuckin' stool and have it crash to the ground.

Another whimper.

"All right, who's there?" I called and quickly turned back to the table to put the camera away in the bag. Then I scanned the area.

Nothing looked out of place. Had a cat or some damned animal got in somehow before a brother had locked up?

A scuffle came from the left, and my eyes landed on a dark bare foot being dragged backward. Someone was hiding in the fuckin' corner of the room. The spot was small. It was between two benches, so whoever was in there was small in frame. Couldn't be a large motherfucker about to get his arse handed to him.

Slowly, I started forward. "You better come the fuck out," I demanded before peering around the corner of the bench. My eyes widened and I took a step back when scared, mossy-coloured eyes blinked up at me through a thick veil of curly black, scruffy hair.

"What the fuck?" I whispered.

The small woman pedalled her feet back on the ground, her hands holding her frame up as she tried to push herself against the wall more.

If she didn't have the look of some dirty, homeless woman, she'd be a stunner. Her skin looked silky smooth. It was the colour of milk chocolate and caused my eyes to stay glued to her. My gaze flicked to her legs, her body and her face. Never had I had an urge for a taste of chocolate until that moment. Well, except for the woman at the store I'd seen the previous day. My eyes widened again. Holy motherfuckin' shit, it
was
her. The cowering woman on the floor was the same woman as the one at the bloody store. I’d had an urge to go up and talk to her in the shop, but she’d quickly disappeared, embarrassed from what I’d caught her saying. Even when her words, soulful eyes and body intrigued me to want to know her more.

Composing my shock, I stepped forward. She squealed and closed her eyes tightly.

"Hey, hey. I won't hurt you," I said calmly with my hands out in front of me. She stopped moving and glanced up at me quickly, only to avert her eyes back to the floor in the next second.

Christ, how was I supposed to deal with this? Why was she here?

"What're you doing here?" I asked as my eyes raked over her body. That was when I saw the blood. Her arms and legs were scraped to shit. The material of her tee and jean shorts didn't cover much of her body. How in the fuck did she get scraped up like that?

She must have felt me shift as I reached for my phone in the back pocket of my jeans because she shifted around restlessly and panic flashed across her features.

"I'm just gettin' my phone," I said and waved it out in front of myself. "I'll call the cops and—"

"No!" she screamed. She tried to stand, but her bare feet wouldn't support her. She cried out in pain and fell to her arse.

"S'okay, it's all right. Calm, little bird."

Little bird?

Maybe because she reminded me of an injured bird, all flighty and scared.

"Look," I reassured and sat on the ground in front of her, placing my phone on the filthy, concrete ground. "I won't call the cops, okay." She eyed the phone then gave me a small nod, her body sagging in relief. Did she recognise me, as well? "Is there anyone I can call for you?" I asked.

She shook her head once.

"Little bird, you can't—"

The door to the garage burst open and laughter reached our ears. The woman squealed, her arms winding around her knees. She buried her head in her arms, muttering and whimpering to herself about something I couldn't catch.

Jumping up, I started for the door as Slit, Muff and Handle stepped through. They were brothers to the Caroline Springs charter, brothers I was just gettin' to know, so I wasn't sure if I could trust them.

"Get the fuck out," I growled. They paused and eyed me.

"We've got work to do, arsehole," Muff said with a glare.

"Yeah, just because you think your shit don't stink and the boss man has a hard-on for you, it don't mean you can tell us what to do," Slit barked.

"Slit," Handle was kind enough to warn.

Too late, though.

I was up in his face, pushing the dick backward and outta the room before he registered to fight back. The other brothers followed. "I don't give a fuck what you think 'bout me, but I have enough say to order you fuckers around. You do as I fuckin' well say. If you don't, I'll come see you in your dreams, and it won't be pretty." Glaring at the wanker in front of me, I finished with, "The shop is closed until I say further."

"Fuck off," Slit spat and stupidly added, "I could have you knocked out in seconds."

"Slit," Muff snarled. "Watch who you say shit to. Your brain ain't registering who your mouth is running off to, dickhead." He shook his head at his friend. "That's Dodge."

Still close, with our chests touching, Slit stiffened. Now he knew the deep shit he just dug for himself. I had the highest kill count in Hawks. All charters included.

No one fucked with me.

I protected all.

"You get me now, pencil dick?" I asked with a smirk.

He nodded. I stepped back and ordered, "Shop is closed. You need to tell Memphis? Do it. Have him ring me, or when he gets here, he can come see me. For now, you two,"—I pointed to Muff and Handle—"guard the doors, inside and out. No one comes in there except brothers who came from Ballarat." I thumbed towards the garage and then turned to Slit. "And you, get the fuck outta my sight."

"What's going on in there?" Handle asked.

"Not your business until I know I can trust you," I stated and then walked back into the garage, slamming the door behind me.

Thinking of the scared woman caused me to sigh, my head falling forward, and I shook it.

Fuck. I'd just gone against brothers for a woman.

What in the hell was I thinkin'?

Even though I hardly knew the guys, they were still brothers. Slit, I couldn't give a fuck about, but I'd just admitted I wasn't trusting anyone around there. Which meant no fucker would think to open up to me and share shit.

And all for a fuckin' woman.

I swore, after seeing the shit boss man and my brothers in Ballarat went through for their women, I wouldn't get pussy-whipped like them.

Fuck it. I won't let it happen.

No woman comes between me and my brothers.

Tilting my head to the side, I glared down at the little bird who cringed and shivered on the ground. No woman was worth any trouble.

But Christ.

Maybe I'd been around the Ballarat brothers and their misses too long and had gotten soft-hearted, because something deep inside me knew I couldn't leave the woman like she was on the floor. I couldn't turn my back on her. She needed help, and I had to give it.

Didn't mean I had to give her anything else.

I was too hard for that shit.

I didn't feel.

All I liked was to fuck a tight, wet pussy and do it hard.

What I needed to do was get her the fuck outta there and let someone else deal with her before my heart got caught in the trap like all the other bastards.

I strode over towards her. She whimpered when I bent down for my phone. "I won't fuckin' hurt you," I barked. "I'm not callin' the pigs, okay. Just someone who can help you. Someone I trust." After pressing a couple of buttons, I held my phone to my ear.

"Brother?" Pick answered.

"Bring Josie to the garage. I'm gonna need some help with a little bird."

"What the fuck you talkin' about?" he growled.

"Just do it," I snapped and hung up.

Chapter Three

W
illow

Seven hours earlier

Run, run, run, run.
It was all I could do. The thought burned inside of me.
Run
so I could get to safety.
Run
so he couldn't catch me and I would be safe.
Run
to live.
Run
to survive.

Looking behind me for the millionth time, there was no shadow following me. My heart lurched in relief, even though my chest ached from the panting and exhaustion. Sweat trickled down my back from the heat of the night, and I cried in pain as my bare feet took to the road, the street and grass, rubbing themselves raw.

My arms and legs were finally numb, and tears brimmed in my eyes in appreciation. The way my limbs had been damaged after I crawled out the small bathroom window, cutting my arms and legs with the shards of glass leftover and then scraping them when I fell to the sharp stones below, was horrendous.

It was hard to see, but it was as if the night knew it had to be darker to cover my tracks. Was God looking down on me, wanting me to escape?

Whatever the reason, gratitude filled my heavy heart.

A gate banging shut caused me to jump and whimper. I bolted behind a large warehouse-type place. Leaning against the rough wall, I inhaled ragged breaths, trying but failing to ignore the wave of pain burning through my body since stopping. I needed a place to rest, a place that would keep me hidden for the night at least.

So Colton and my owner couldn't find me.

My cousin had fooled me, or rather, I’d been the fool in believing Colton wouldn’t betray me like the rest of my family. God, my family was all fucked up. My parents were druggies, my cousin a gambler...heck, was my uncle a drunken cross-dresser?

A crazy laugh escaped me, and my hand flew to cover my mouth. Exhaustion and pain filled my head with stupid thoughts.

Rest
. I had to rest. Crawling on all fours, I looked through the darkened night for a place to catch my breath. 

Something shone from a window up on the building. I stood and cringed from the pain shooting through my feet. Great, another bloody window. At least it was open. I could be thankful for that. I waited and listened. When I heard nothing coming from the inside, I opened the window further and jumped up, my bottom to the edge. Never known for my grace, especially when bleeding and in agony, I slipped and fell in a heap to the concrete ground below.

Rest.
I just needed to rest. Just for a moment.

I found a corner, blocked off with benches on each side of me. From the smell of it, I worked out I was in a garage.

Rest. Even for a little while.

I never thought I would be able to sleep, considering my distress and the burning pain inching its way around my body, but exhaustion won out. I closed my eyes.

*  *  *  *

M
y gaze glanced over the man in front of me, the one who had woken me with a start when he’d banged the door open earlier. It was the same man I'd seen in the supermarket the previous day—the man with a sinful body, who now had a hard glare and words as he barked into his phone.

Trust no one.

I couldn't risk it.

My heart beat stupidly at the thought of him seeming to want to protect me. He'd driven those men out of the room because I was scared, and spoke to someone on the phone to seek help for me.

My heart was foolish to want to trust someone so soon.

My head was smarter.

I eyed him with a curious glance, keeping my distance.

The man turned to me with a glare in his eyes, only the glare didn't frighten me. If anything, my personality wanted to share my own scowl back, but it wasn’t the time. I needed to know what the new situation just brought me.

"My name's Dodge," he snapped.

Dodge. What a funny name.

"Someone's coming who'll help you. For now, you're safe... Do you remember me?"

I nodded.

He sighed when I wasn't forthcoming with more information. "Do you know where you are?" he asked.

I shook my head slightly.

"This is a mechanical business owned by the biker club I'm a part of."

My eye widened. A sharp gasp filled the air as my chest rose and fell in a jerky motion. A biker club? My owner was a part of a biker club. "No," I whispered and shifted into the wall more. "No!" I screamed.

"Hey," he started, his brows furrowed. "What the fuck? Little bird, what's this about? I'm trying to help you. What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Y-you're one of them," I stuttered in terror and annoyance. I hated how weak I seemed.

"Woman, what are you talking about?"

"H-he was selling me, m-my cousin.” Even I thought it sounded insane. In this day and age, people were still sold into slavery? I couldn’t fathom it. "I was to become a slave." Judging by Dodge's eyes darkening, he seemed to believe it far too easily, which scared the crap out of me. "I was...my...I was sold. My owner...he's a biker."

His jaw clenched tight, his nostrils flared and I watched as his hand fisted his phone tightly. Then, all of a sudden, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. When they opened, the storm that had grown inside of them calmed.

He sat on the floor, keeping a short distance between us. "I can tell you now, little bird, no one I know would want to buy a woman to be a slave. That shit is fucked up, and I'll take a fucker out, even in this club, who thinks of starting that crap up." He sighed. "The Hawks MC is clean. We don't run in shady stuff like selling women or drugs. No one fucks that up for us. If they try,
I
take them out and when that happens, there's nothing left to find of the fucker trying to bring a bad name to Hawks." He licked his lips like they were dry. "You
are
safe here."