Unbeloved (Undeniable #4)(61)
“I ain’t never served any real time, just a few short stints here and there, nothin’ more than a few months,” Deuce said as he got up out of his chair and rounded his desk. Coming to sit beside Hawk on the couch, he sighed heavily. “Thanks to Mick,” he finished, rolling his eyes.
“But you’ll do okay. Just keep your head down, keep your mouth shut, and if you have to, if someone’s got a beef with you, fall in line with a crew that’ll have your back. And you run into any real problems, you let me know. Preacher’s got eyes all over the damn place. Whatever joint you end up in, I’m sure Preacher knows someone who knows someone who knows someone, and I’ll take care of that shit real quick.”
Hawk couldn’t tell if it was him that Deuce was trying to convince that everything was going to be all right, or himself. But he didn’t doubt the man for a minute. After all, it was Deuce who had his own father put down while in the joint. Had him shanked in the showers.
And wasn’t Hawk happy he’d done just that. Without the fortunate death of Reaper West, who knew what the hell would have happened to him, Cox, Ripper, or Dirty? Reaper certainly wouldn’t have done a couple of homeless teenagers any favors.
While killing your own father might seem to others the actions of a cruel, coldhearted man, it had been Reaper who’d been cruel and Deuce anything but. He was just a man who did what he had to do to keep surviving. He made his own rules, lived his own way, and anyone who f*cked with him or what was his . . .
Somehow, someday, Deuce would serve them their punishment.
“Speaking of takin’ care of shit,” Hawk said. “What are you gonna do about the Vegas boys, or . . .” He hesitated, not wanting to bring up the biggest traitor of them all, but it didn’t matter. Deuce knew exactly who he was talking about.
“They’ve all been stripped,” Deuce said. “Can’t do much else while they’re in bed with the cartel, but you know the Russians, they never like to keep outsiders on the inside for too long. Liabilities. One way or another, they’ll all be goin’ to ground.
“As for ZZ,” Deuce continued, his jaw hardening to the point where Hawk could see his facial muscles twitching. “I don’t give two f*cks who he thinks is protectin’ him. I ain’t gonna stop lookin’ and when I find him, I’m goin’ to rip his f*ckin’ heart out.”
Deuce’s nostrils flared, his cold blue eyes burning with vehemence. “He shot my boy, he betrayed me, and then this shit with you . . .”
Resting on his knees, Deuce’s fists clenched.
“He still loves her,” Hawk said.
Deuce’s head jerked, his eyes flicking to Hawk. “Danny?” he asked.
Hawk nodded. “Gathered that much after he shot me, before he started beatin’ the f*ckin’ shit outta me. Didn’t really want to spell it all out in front of Ripper.”
Deuce’s expression seemed to slacken some, but the underlying anger remained. “Don’t matter,” he growled. “You been pinin’ after D all these years, and you didn’t start shootin’ up your brothers.”
Hawk bit back a laugh. There were times when he’d wanted nothing more than to put a bullet in Jase’s spoiled, selfish, useless brain. But hurting Dorothy was something he’d never been able to stomach, and killing Jase . . . Well, no matter her feelings for the man, it would have hurt her.
“Fuck all this woman talk,” Deuce suddenly spat, pushing himself off the couch. Grabbing Hawk’s crutches, Deuce held out his arm for him to take. “You got a party goin’ on out there, and people wantin’ to see you.”
Hawk grabbed hold of Deuce’s offered arm and with a good bit of struggling, managed to stand up. While he balanced on his good leg, Deuce shoved the crutches under his arms. It took Hawk a moment to adjust to them, having never used them before recently, but it was either use the crutches or be stuck in a wheelchair, and crutches seemed a hell of a lot more appealing than trying to maneuver around on f*cking wheels.
Deuce was about to open the doors when a loud knock sounded from the opposite side, making the wood vibrate.
Hawk took a limping step backward as Deuce pulled the doors open, revealing . . . Jase.
“You’re back,” Deuce said.
“I . . . uh . . .” Jase’s gaze flickered to Hawk, who held his gaze with narrowed eyes. Dorothy had explained to him what had transpired between the two of them. He knew that Dorothy had slept in Jase’s bed, and ended up kissing him good-bye the next morning. But even knowing that had been their last kiss, Hawk wasn’t happy about it. Not that he’d had any claim on Dorothy at that point in time, but he did now and he couldn’t help but feel a little territorial. Or maybe a lot territorial.
Looking between the two of them, Deuce ushered Jase inside before giving Hawk a grim smile and a slap on the back.
“Go,” Deuce said, pointing to the room beyond his office.
As Hawk hobbled through the doorway, he knew there was nothing on this earth aside from a bullet to the brain or a fatal drug overdose that was going to make him forget about what was coming, but as he was greeted with grins and shouts and cheers, bottles being held up in the air, and the sad smile of a pretty little redhead, he could almost forget.
Almost.
? ? ?
Even before Jase watched Hawk limp across the room, heading straight for Dorothy, grabbing her in a one-armed hug and yanking her against his body to lay a kiss on her that would have made porn stars blush, he’d already known something had happened between the two of them.