Hiding Out (Hawks MC: Caroline Springs Charter, #2) (14 page)

They'd left a message.

They'd left a message to in-fuckin'-form me my sister was dead and now I had two kids to take care of.

Fuck!

I didn't even know how old they were. "How old are they?"

"Who?"

My upper lip rose at the stupid question. "The kids," I snarled.

"Oh. Um..." I could hear some papers being shuffled around. "Texas, the boy, he's fourteen, and Romania, the girl, she's just turned seven."  

Shit. Christ. Fucking hell, what am I gonna do with kids at fourteen and seven? I don't do kids. I can barely take care of myself. What do they eat? Can they fuckin' bathe themselves? Go to the toilet on their own?

"Okay, Mr Monroe. I shall text you. Please let me know when you land. The children will be happy to see you."

I highly fuckin' doubted it.

She hung up. I slowly pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at it in my hand.

My sister was dead.

She'd given me her kids.

I was now taking care of kids.

Crap.

"Dodge?" Pick said in a quiet tone. "Everything cool downstairs?"

"Huh?" I asked and blinked up at him.

"Brother, what in the fuck is happenin'?"

Rubbing a hand over my face, I cleared my head and said, "Tell Memphis to send in the brothers. Dallas will give you the info you need to know. I have to go."

"Go where?" Billy asked, steppin' up.

"My sister was in a car accident. She's dead. I have to go to her kids, organise a funeral, and bring the kids back here."

"To live with you?" Pick asked, shock in his voice.

"Yeah...fuck!" I looked to both of them. "I'm their legal guardian now. A boy fourteen, a girl seven. What in the fuck am I gonna do?"

Pick straightened. "Give me a sec, I'll talk to Memphis, then we'll get you outta here and organised. The women will know what to do with the kids. First, you need to go shower and clean the fuckin' blood off."

Shit. Yeah, a shower was good.

Kids
.

I was going to Sydney to collect my dead sister's kids.

Fuck, my chest hurt.

A
s soon as I stepped in the house, anger took hold. Seeing Low sitting on Beast's lap pissed me right the fuck off. I had enough shit going on without havin' to deal with a slut sharing herself around. She didn't get my cock today, so it seemed she was seeking it elsewhere.

Fine. Fuckin'. Fine.

Bitches were all the fuckin' same.

Using, motherfuckin' cunts.

Knew no good could come from her.

"Trey." She smiled and stood.

"Get the fuck out!" I bellowed from the front door.

"Dodge," Pick warned.

"Brother," Dive snapped.

"Fuck!" Billy swore.

They knew what had been said in the room with Slit. They knew Baxter was still after her, so being Hawks men, they were still protecting her.

"Trey," she uttered.

"You listen here, dickhead—" Lucia started in.

"No. I don't have to listen to any of the shit you bitches say. Whatever it is will be fucked-up anyway. Get the fuck outta my house, now," I demanded. "Dive,
she
can go to your place. I want her outta here and now."

"Trey." Not a whisper that time. No, she snapped it at me, her backbone kickin' in. Any other time, my dick would have got hard, but not then. I was too pissed for anything.

"Low, it's not what—" Dive tried to say.

"Dive," I growled before he could finish. "Get the bitch the fuck out. Now," I ordered and stalked off to my room at the end of the hall, slamming the door behind me.

I had to pack a bag. My flight was in two hours at five a.m. The flight was only an hour and a half, then I'd be off the plane and heading to my sister's house to organise the funeral. If I kept myself going, kept moving and thinkin' about what I was gonna do with two kids, I'd be okay. I'd forget about seeing Willow in a brother's fuckin' arms.

Thank fuck I didn't dip my cock into the bitch's snatch.

If I had, I would have been weaved into her web more and led by my cock into another dangerous situation that I needed right then.

Christ.

My tee slipped from my hands when I heard sobbing coming from in the room on the other side of my en suite. Closing my eyes, my head dipped. My chin touched my chest as I listened to the next words.

"They're all the same," Low growled through her crying. "He didn't even let me explain. He didn't care. Fuck him. Fuck this shit. I don't need anyone's help."

"Girl," Lucia groaned.

"No! I did nothing, Lucia. Nothing but trip and fall and land in some guy's lap, and that's how Dodge reacts. It gutted me. My stomach is hollow. My heart hurts. I just want it all to end. I want to be left alone." A wail of pain, pain that pierced my soul, followed by her voice filled with utter devastation. "I didn't ask for this life and right now, I don't want to be in it."

"Girlfriend, don't—"

She sniffed up. "I'm sorry, babe. I shouldn't have said that."

"You ready?" I heard Dive ask.

She must have nodded because I heard no more except retreating footsteps.

Moments later, my door burst open and Josie stepped in with Pick and Billy behind her. She looked hurt more than anything.

Before she could say anything, I held up my hand. "Don't." Fuck. I couldn't take a lashing after hearing what I just heard. So I said, "I was wrong. I let my emotions fuck me up and took it out on a person who didn't deserve it. I'll fix it when I get back."

"Her face, Dodge," Josie uttered. "It was like you took a knife and stabbed her in the chest then twisted it for fun."
Jesus fuck. That killed.
Josie shook her head sadly. "I know you have things going on yourself and I hope when I tell her what they are,
which
I will be, that it will ease some of her pain. But I can tell you now, you will have to make it up to her when you get back. Prepare to have a fight on your hands."

I was a cunt.

A motherfuckin', low and dirty cunt.

To take my shit, my fears, out on her like that.

I knew I was gonna have to fight for her forgiveness and I was more than ready to do it. How-fuckin'-ever, I had a flight to catch, two kids to take care of, and that shit scared me more than being shot.

That was until I called Talon to update him.

"Talk," he answered in his signature response.

"Baxter Davis," I growled into the phone.

"You're fuckin' kidding me?"

"No. He's the one selling women into slavery. Found the snitch tonight and got it out of him."

"Fuck me. That cunt came to me after I got you into Hawks and wanted to join, as well. I turned him away. He's a dirty prick."

"Guess he never got over you shutting him down. Not only that, but me winning the fight when he had the undefeated title and also stealin' his woman he used to beat."

"Jesus motherfuckin' Christ. Knew that guy was fucked in the head. What's the play?"

"Got Dallas looking for him. Gotta head outta town for a while, though."

"Yeah, heard. Fuckin' sucks, brother."

"S'all good. Talk soon."

"You need anything, and I mean fuckin' anything, you call, hear?"

"Yeah, brother, 'preciate it. Keep your ear to the ground, not sure if the fucker will wanna start shit in your area."

"Will do."

Throwing my phone to the bed, I quickly packed some shit into a carry-on bag.

I was off to collect some kids.

Shit.

W
illow

Two weeks later

My emotions had been like a wild roller coaster. Deep-seeded hurt, where I would curl up in a ball and cry, happened often. However, my emotions would then quickly switch to anger and I’d find myself cursing while cooking, watching TV or reading. Those hot, smoking heroes in the books pissed me the hell off because I had one, only he turned out to be a bastard. The way Trey's eyes sizzled with hate on that night taunted me even in my dreams. The way he spoke played on repeat over and over in my mind.

Usually, I wasn't one to hold a grudge. The speed in which I forgave my parents was testimony to that. My cousin, however, I didn't have to forgive. What he did was unforgivable. When I'd been told he was no longer an issue, I half expected the guilt to kick in.

That never happened.

Instead, relief had brushed over me knowing he had received exactly what he'd deserved.

Still, I found myself holding a big, fat, ugly grudge when it came to Dodge.

It was as if he'd hurt me more than any one of
them
. I couldn't explain it, nor could I understand it. All I was able to do was guess, and my guess had to do with the fact I trusted and relied on Trey too much. So when his actions tore me apart, I had no one else to blame but myself for letting my emotions for him take control.

No more.

I understood what he went through before he arrived to the house. How he found the snitch and...took care of it. How some of the trouble with Hawks was because someone had a vendetta against him over stupid, petty stuff. And especially how he lost his sister and was since responsible two children.

He would have been a ball of confusion and hate.

Still, if he had let me, I would have been there for him. I would have helped him through it all. However, he'd pushed me away by being a stubborn prick who wouldn’t listen to me, and I found that his words speared my heart, fracturing my already-frail emotions.

None of his treatment I deserved.

Three days. It took me three days to stop the tears springing to my eyes when that scene would pop into my head. Poor Dive thought I was going crazy; he also thought I had my period. Men didn't understand that woman were emotional a lot of the times, especially when the hope for a happy life was ripped right out from under them.

On the fourth day, he'd had enough of me moping around. With the help of Josie, Nary and Lucia, they all snapped me out of my funk with kindness. We watched movies, we went shopping—with five bikers tagging along. I'd borrowed money off Lucia to buy some clothes. With no questions asked, she'd lent it to me. It was only Josie who questioned why I'd gone to her and asked for her help to sell the clothes Dodge had given me online. I wanted the money back so I could pay him back. And as soon as I had a job, I would give him some more money for the short time I was under his roof. After all, bringing two children back with him would be expensive when he'd have to feed, clothe and arrange schooling for them.

I could say I cared about the children more than Dodge, but I’d be lying and that irritated me so much.

It peeved me that Dodge was on my mind, which was another reason my anger felt fuelled.

At the start of the second week, Dive—who was becoming another fast friend, though sometimes an annoying older brother—came to me and asked if I wanted a job. I jumped off the couch and wrapped my arms around him, screaming, "Yes, yes, yes!"

His reply was, "You aren't outta the crap yet. We'll still keep you close, but we need someone at the garage to man the phones. You willing to do it, babe? There'll be a lot of horny bikers around wantin' to tap your arse."

Rolling my eyes, I said, "If I can put up with your horndawg ways, I'm sure I can put up with them." I'd lost count of the times I'd heard Dive get a visitor at night. What I could
count
was the times I'd heard the women cry out their orgasm, causing me to feel a little jealous. Not that I would ever go there with Dive. He was a Player with a capital P.

I started work the next day. Dive drove me in. He wouldn't have me on the back of his Harley. One, it wasn't safe and two, that spot was for his old lady. I wondered if that meant his mum. Weird.

To start with, after Dive had led me into the front office, I was scared and overwhelmed when I spotted the overflowing paperwork all over the desk. I knew it wasn't my job to organise and file, instead just to answer the phone and jot down appointments for all the employees—and there were a lot of workers. Still, I couldn't even find the phone under all the paperwork. After Dive left me to it, with a kiss to my temple, I started tidying. I didn't like to work in a cluttered environment. I was sure the men knew most women were like that, because when Memphis came in at the end of the day, his whistle was long, his brows were high, and he smiled big. "Never thought I'd see the place like this. You rockin' this work shit, sweetheart."

Laughing, I told him, "It only took me all day, but I finally found the phone."

"And cleaned, filed all the shit...fuck, you even put in a fresh pot of coffee for the machine. The men won't want you to leave now." He walked to the door that led into the garage and yelled, "Low's got the coffee machine working!" He turned back, moved outta the doorway and folded his arms over his chest as he leaned back, as if he was waiting on something. That
something
came barrelling through the door. At least five big men came striding in to stare at the coffee machine.

"Thank fuck," one said.

"Miracle," another added.

"I think I'm in love." That one was looking at me.

"Hated going to the diner down the road, woman. You've made a fan outta me if it tastes as good as it looks," said the only one I actually knew, Saxon.

"I'm trying it first, you fuckers," replied the last guy, who ran at the coffee pot.

With wide eyes, I looked to Memphis as the other men crowded around the coffee pot. He shrugged and said, "The kettle in the lunch room stopped working 'bout a month ago. That thing was outta action before that. We're all lazy fucks and couldn't be bothered fixin' it when the diner opened down the road about the same time they broke."

Men were strange.

The days that followed were something special. I got to know most of the guys as they came in and got their coffee when they wanted one. Some stayed around to chat and others said a quick hello.

On Friday, at closing time, I was shocked to come back from a toilet break to find the front office filled with most of the guys. Upon opening the door, they all started clapping and cheering. Then they parted, and Josie, with Pick and Billy behind her, stepped forward with a big bunch of flowers.