Hawke: A Bad Boy Fighter Romance (With bonus book Sons of Flame MC) (16 page)

BOOK: Hawke: A Bad Boy Fighter Romance (With bonus book Sons of Flame MC)
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Chapter Three

 

Eli

 

Eli watched Tess walk back to her car. She was walking quickly and shading her face with her folder. He chuckled to himself - she’d been sweating just from the walk across the parking lot. He guessed she obviously didn’t spend much time out here in the desert.

She climbed into her car and pulled away quickly. Eli found himself feeling disappointed that she hadn’t looked back at him once she’d decided to leave, but immediately told himself to quit being so stupid.

She worked for the government, and she had the power to send him back to prison if he stepped out of line, so he’d keep her happy. For a little while back there he’d been afraid that she’d report him for working before she’d submitted her stupid paperwork, but he was grateful that she’d let it slide.

He had to admit that she was cute. Those pretty green eyes, the swell of her breasts underneath the white blouse she wore, and her wavy blond hair. In another world, in another situation, he might’ve even decided to do something about it. Ask her out for dinner; turn on a little bit of charm. But she was his probation officer. That was dangerous territory. She was the enemy.

He sighed and went back into the dim coolness of the workshop. It still felt weird, being able to go where he wanted, do what he felt like, whenever he felt like doing it.

The three years in prison had forced him to toughen up, to never show weakness, even for a moment. Those kinds of habits were hard to break. He knew that he was being rude to Tess, even as he was doing it. He just couldn’t help it; he couldn’t let those walls down, because bad things happened when you let your guard down.

After the events that day with Tex and the undercover police. Eli knew that he’d have a hard time trusting anyone again. Mike and his Grandma - that was it. He knew they’d always have his back, and he’d have theirs. Everyone else was a potential threat.

He hadn’t always been this way. When he was younger, before Tex had sweet-talked him into joining the Sons of Flame, Eli had gotten decent grades; he’d worked hard at school. But then he graduated, and there was no plan after that.

All the kids knew about the Sons of Flame. Sometimes you’d see them roaring through town on their bikes, chrome bodywork glinting in the scorching sunlight. The guys looked tough, like they didn’t fear anybody. Like they were untouchable.

And they had money. Sometimes they’d come over to where the kids hung out, and they’d offer money, just for little things. Take a message to this guy. Keep an eye on that house for the night. It was easy money, and Eli had taken it eagerly. Everyone knew that he was working for the Sons of Flame, and that meant he was untouchable, too.

That kind of power is intoxicating to a teenage boy without anything else going on, and, bit by bit, Eli had found himself working for Tex and the Sons of Flame more often. Eli remembered the day that Tex had formally invited him to join the gang. He wouldn’t just be an errand-boy any longer - he’d be a fully-fledged member.

And that meant a bike - a welcoming gift, from Tex himself. Eli had always wanted his own bike, so the day that Tex handed him the keys to the powerful machine, squatting there menacingly, had been one of the happiest days of Eli’s life.

But that happiness hadn’t lasted long.

From the outside, the lifestyle looked like everything a guy could dream of. Money, power, women, freedom.

Of course, it all came at a cost.

Eli had always told himself that there were some lines he wouldn’t cross. He wouldn’t hurt someone that he didn’t have a personal grievance with. He wouldn’t rob from those that couldn’t afford to lose it. And he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the safety of his Grandma.

Eli lowered himself back down to the ground in Mike’s workshop, lost in his memories as he started working on the car once more. His hands worked of their own accord, because his mind was miles away, years away.

He remembered the first time that he’d beaten someone up. He didn’t even know the guy, had never met him before. But the guy had reneged on a deal with Tex, and that just couldn’t be allowed to happen. Eli had tried to get Tex to ask someone else. After Eli’s first few protests, Tex’s demeanour had changed in an instant. His eyes had narrowed, and he’d stepped in close, right in Eli’s face, his hot breath sour and rancid.

“You don’t seem to understand me, boy,” he’d spat. “You’re the new kid. You’re fresh meat. I need you to show me how loyal you are. I need to know that you’ll do what needs to be done, when I
say
it needs to be done. You don’t want to find out what happens to people who don’t follow orders, Eli.”

Tex had stepped back a little.

“You understand?”

Eli had just nodded, aware of how dangerous Tex and the Sons could be.

“Y-yeah, Tex, I understand.”

The mark had been some overweight middle-aged shop owner. Eli and some of the more senior members had burst into his store, and Eli had beaten him down while the Sons looked on, watching to make sure he did it properly.

The guy had cried, had begged, but Eli beat him anyway. It was like he was a bystander, watching himself do it.

Once it was over, Shank had patted Eli on the back as they left.

“That’s it, boy. It gets easier with time, trust me.”

And he was right. It did get easier, every single time. And that was the most abhorrent thing of all, Eli came to realise.

He stopped working for a moment, returning to reality. He was ashamed of himself, ashamed of what he’d done. But that was all in the past now. He had a fresh start, he could move on, put all that shit behind him.

Eli tightened one last nut on the car, and checked his watch. It was time to go. He rolled himself back out from under the car, but when he emerged his face was level with a pair of boots. Big, bulky, black leather boots. And not just one pair, either. Three of them.

Eli would have recognized those boots anywhere, and his stomach twisted in fear and hatred and disgust. He looked up.

Tex stood there, arms crossed, an ugly smile on his scarred, weather-beaten face.

“Well, well, well,” the leader of the Sons of Flame drawled. “If it isn’t Eli Flint, out of the slammer early.”

He laughed, a dry sound utterly devoid of mirth.

“You behave yourself in there, boy? That why they let you out early, huh?”

Eli had spent a long time picturing this moment - the moment that he came face to face with Tex again. He’d abandoned him, left him to take the rap for that deal gone wrong. For the first year inside, Eli had told himself that he’d smash Tex’s face in, the first chance he got.

But as time went on, he mellowed out a little, got a bit more thoughtful. He had his Grandma to think about, after all.

Eli pulled himself to his feet and stood there, meeting Tex’s eyes without wavering.

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

Eli said it simply and matter-of-fact, without any anger or any real emotion at all.

Tex looked around at his two companions, Shank and Nomad. His face was a caricature, exaggerated for effect.

“Well, boys, looks like we came all this way for nothing! Eli’s got nothin’ to say to us! And to think we bought him a little bouquet of flowers to welcome him home!”

He wheezed in laughter at his own crappy joke, and then turned back around to face Eli once more.

Eli had had enough - Tex and the Sons of Flame were in the past now, and he wanted nothing more to do with them.

“Get the fuck out, Tex. I mean it.”

For a second, Tex was actually speechless, his eyebrows raised in shock at Eli’s words. But just as quick, his eyes narrowed and that familiar, dangerous scowl encompassed his features.

“The fuck you say to me, boy?”

Eli stepped in close. His heart was pounding, sending adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“You abandoned me that day, Tex. You and Shank. After all that crap you used to talk about brotherhood, you just fucking left me there to take the fall. You never even looked back.”

Tex didn’t back down, and Eli saw that Shank and Nomad were tense, bristling and ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

“It’s just business, Eli,” Tex said. “Sometimes that’s how these things work out.”

“Business!” Eli exploded. “I’ve just spent three years in prison, you asshole! I get caught anywhere near you, and I go straight back inside.”

Eli turned around, disgust plain to see on his features.

“Just go, Tex, I’m asking you nicely. Leave me be. I got a job now, a fresh start. I’m leaving all that other shit behind me, and I ain’t looking back.”

Eli should never have turned his back, should have known exactly what Tex would do. He never saw the blow coming, until he was lying face down in a pool of sticky oil, stars dancing across his vision.

“You ain’t leaving
nothing
behind you, Eli - not until I say you can.”

Eli tried to struggle up onto his hands and knees, but a heavy kick to his stomach forced all the wind from his body.

“Stay down there while I’m talking to you, you insolent piece of shit!”

Tex was breathing heavily.

“I ain’t done with you, Eli Flint. The Sons of Flame ain’t done with you, neither. So you just keep that in mind. We’re gonna see each other again real soon.”

Through the fog of his pain, Eli heard the scuffs of their boots as the bikers moved away. Before they left, Tex spoke again.

“We been keepin’ an eye on that ol’ Grandma of yours Eli, while you were inside. Makin’ sure she’s been safe, you know. If you know what’s good for you and her, you won’t do anything stupid...I’d hate for anything to happen to such a sweet old lady.”

Eli staggered to his feet.

“If you lay a finger on her, Tex, I swear to God….”

Tex just laughed.

“Things ain’t gotta be like that, Eli. Just remember what I said. I’ll see you again
real
soon.”

The three bikers left, roaring away on their bikes as Eli slumped back down to the ground. His head was swimming and his stomach ached.

He should have known it wouldn’t be as easy as all that. It never was with Tex and the Sons of Flame.

 

*****

Chapter Four

 

Eli

 

The sun was just setting on the horizon as Eli arrived home, casting a surreal orange glow over the landscape. He pulled into the parking lot and shut the bike’s engine off. The motorbike he was riding these days was nowhere near as powerful as the one that he used to ride when he was in the Sons of Flame, but it served his purposes for now.

He swung one leg over and stepped off the bike, but staggered a little as his feet hit the ground. His head was still pounding from where Tex had hit him from behind, and his vision had been swimming alarmingly from time to time. To top it all off, Eli’s stomach also ached something fierce from the kick that Tex had delivered.

After Tex and the others had left, Eli had dragged himself to his feet and cleaned himself up as best he could, before checking in on Mike before he left. The old bastard had slept right through the whole incident, and Eli had decided not to tell him about what had happened. Mike had enough on his plate, and Eli didn’t want to give him one more thing to worry about. He’d probably also tell Eli’s Grandma about the whole thing, and Eli didn’t want to concern her, either.

Tex’s veiled threat still rang in Eli’s ears. The Sons of Flame leader was a coward at heart, but Eli knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to follow up on his promise. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to working for Tex again, but Eli didn’t see what choice he had right now. Maybe if he just did whatever it was that Tex wanted, that would be the last of it.

Eli knew that was wishful thinking, but he couldn’t spare the energy to think too much about it right there and then. He wanted to go and take a bath, wash off the grime from the day, and get some sleep.

Things would look better in the morning - Eli would work something out, he was sure of it.

He walked slowly up to the house, careful not to make too much noise. If his luck was in, Grandma would be napping and he wouldn’t have to face her. Grace Flint was getting on in years now, but she was still as sharp as a tack, and Eli knew that she’d figure something was wrong.

He pushed open the screen door and tried to open the inner one as quietly as possible, wincing when it creaked loudly.

“Eli, is that you?” Grace called out, and Eli muttered a curse under his breath.

“Yup, just me Grandma.”

He stepped into the house, closing the door behind him. Grace Flint would be 76 next year, and while she was less active than she used to be, and her eyesight was getting worse, her hearing was better than ever, and she was still as sharp as a tack.

Eli had been hoping she was asleep because he knew that nothing got past her.

“Come say hello to your old Grandma before you disappear off into your room, Eli.”

He made his way into the living room, smiling when he saw her sitting there, swallowed up by her big old armchair. Her hair was grey, and her eyes a little watery, but her smile lit up the room when she saw him.

“How was your first day at work?” she asked, watching him intently as he came to sit in front of her.

Eli tried not to grimace as he sat, his head swimming once again.

“It was OK Grandma. The parole officer came and signed everything off, so I can officially start tomorrow. I don’t know why Mike hired me though, it’s not like there’s any work to do.”

Grace waved away his words.

“The work will come, Eli. He just wants to help you out, set you straight.”

Eli couldn’t help but bristle with indignation at that.

“I don’t need his help, Grandma. I can solve my problems myself.”

She frowned at him.

“Don’t be stupid, Eli. You know how hard it’ll be to find something else, you having just gotten out of prison. You’re as bad as your father was - let go of your pride for once.”

Eli knew that this was an argument he was never going to win, so he remained silent. As hard as it was for him to admit, she was right. There were barely any jobs around here at the best of times, let alone for an ex-con with no qualifications.

He stood, wincing involuntarily at a stab of pain in his stomach.

“What’s the matter?” Grace said.

“It’s nothing Grandma. Just a little headache - I think I need to eat something.”

She gave him a look of suspicion.

“What have you been up to? Only a few days out of prison and you’re already acting strangely.”

Eli felt beads of sweat prickle his brow. If only she knew the truth. She couldn’t though. It was too dangerous.

“Grandma, don’t worry so much. I haven’t been doing anything. It was just a hot day, is all, and I haven’t eaten much.”

She stared at him for a few more uncomfortable seconds, and then relented.

“There are some leftovers in the refrigerator. You just need to warm them in the microwave” she said curtly.

Eli leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

“Thanks Grandma. Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m alright. Can you turn on the TV for me, though?”

Eli switched on her old TV set, and the raucous sounds of some talk show or other filled the room. It was doing no good at all for his headache, so he left her there to watch it, and padded out into the kitchen.

He opened the fridge and saw the leftovers, but he wasn’t hungry really. Taking a bottle of water, he swallowed two Tylenol and went into his bedroom, sagging down onto the bed with a groan. The headache was only getting worse.

Eli replayed the afternoon’s events in his mind. Tex’s leering face loomed up from his imagination. Eli didn’t know what to do. Tex and the Sons of Flame were too powerful for him to stand up to alone, and he knew that they were perfectly capable of following up on their threats.

The situation was made worse by the fact that if he was caught talking to any single member of the gang, it was a violation of the terms of his parole, and he’d immediately go back inside. Mike had been looking out for Grace this time, but Eli knew that she had struggled without him, even though she’d never admit it to him.

Going back to prison was just not an option. He could go to the police and tell them that Tex was trying to intimidate him, but as soon as the gang got wind of it...well, Eli didn’t even want to think about the consequences.

He eventually drifted off into a restless sleep, his dreams dark and foreboding.

 

*****

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