Hawk (Sex and Bullets Book 2) (4 page)

“What, you’re not buying me dinner first?” I bare my teeth at the invisible source of the voice.

“You should stop joking.”

“You shouldn’t have kidnapped me.” I cock my head to the side, glad now for the blindfold that’s hiding my barely suppressed panic. “I mean, are you out of your fucking minds? Did you think you could just remove me from my HQ and nobody would notice? That this would go unpunished?”

“And has anyone come for you yet?” he shoots back. “Can you hear police sirens? No. I’ve taken care of it. Nobody is looking for you,
Hawk
.”

Ice seeps into my veins. I lick my lips as my mind whirs. “What the fuck did you do?”

“What I had to do in order to have a civilized conversation with you.”

A sharp laugh escapes me. Good one. “What. The fuck. Did you do?”

Don’t let him rattle you. He’s good at this. But so are you.

“Had my secretary inform yours that an important meeting out of town came up. They won’t look for you for a couple days more. Plenty of time for a chat.”

My secretary has been instructed to expect a code word to confirm changes in plans that cause my absence. Ergo she must have informed my head of security that something’s wrong.

I draw in air, let it out slowly. “I see.”

“Do you, Mr. Fleming? Jamie. How many names do you have? How many games are you playing?”

I’d shrug, but my arms are almost wrenched out of their sockets.

“You know why you’re here,” he goes on.

“Do I?”

A pause. “You put your parents in prison, Hawk.”

“So they’re friends of yours?”

“Friends. Colleagues.”

“And you want revenge?”

“Revenge?” He laughs, his laughter as deep as his voice. “I don’t want revenge. I told you. I want to do business.”

My heart booms. “Go on.”

“The Organization, Hawk. Your parents were important assets. You took them out of the picture. You lost me good money.”

Holy shit. Yeah, baby. Yeah!

I chuckle, and I bet he can’t understand why I’m grinning like an idiot, my split lip opening and dripping hot blood down my chin and into my beard.

It’s because I’m right where I should be.

“I fail to see what’s funny in this situation,” the man growls.

Of course he does. And I need to calm down before I blow this. He’s right, anyway. It’s not funny.

“What’s your name?” I ask, licking the salty-sweet blood off my lips.

“You don’t need my name, boy. Not until you’ve committed yourself. Proven yourself.”

“What makes you think I’ll ever do that? I turned in my parents, remember?”

“I know what you did. And why.”

Yeah.
He thinks he knows why. He thinks he’s got me figured out.

“The Organization is everything in this city, on this coast. In this country.” He pauses. “We’re on the same page, right? You know all about this, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“I don’t care if the Organization crashes and burns.”

It’s the truth, and this is the role I’ve chosen in this story.
Keep in character, Hawk.

“And I’m here to change your mind.”

“Oh, is that why you’re treating me so well? I knew the luxury of this place was a set-up.”

A stinging slap knocks my head to the side.

Ow.

“I told your father he spoiled you too much. I don’t think you’ve grasped the gravity of the situation.”

Oh I have, trust me.
“That so?”

“Listen, boy. Assuming you can control your father’s company and not drive it into the ground in a matter of months, assuming you can fill his shoes… it is my duty to explain to you what your options are. You do what you’re told, or we’re gonna shut your business down in no time. We’re gonna squash you. Pull strings to put you to prison and scatter your inheritance to the winds.”

Ooh.
So scary. And subtle much? So this is what they wanted. As expected. For me to become my dad. To take his place in the Organization.

Does he really think I betrayed my dad, that I put him behind bars, to take his throne? That I am so greedy I couldn’t wait, and I found a way to shove my dad away and become king in his place?

“Unless you decide to work with us,” he goes on, his voice softer, and damn hard to hear. “Willingly. Eagerly. There are great rewards for those who join our ranks willingly. Your parents knew that. They built their empire with our help.”

I think I just threw up in my mouth. The empire I inherited is built on corruption, filth and lies—and although I’ve known this for months, ever since Storm and his girl, Raylin, uncovered this whole bloody mess behind our families, hearing it stated so matter-of-factly makes me sick to my stomach.

“I’m not interested, damn you.” And I’m still in role.
Don’t give in too easily. Play the game.

“You should take me up on my offer while you’re ahead,” he says, his voice dropping again, and I wonder why I have trouble hearing him again. “Before I lose my patience and let Elliot and Johnny here to do as they damn well please with you. I’ve kept them in check until now.”

And veiled threats, check.

“I’m not afraid of your thugs, Boss. You’re the Boss, aren’t you?”

A kick against my legs wrenches a gasp of pain from me.

Fuck.

“Sleep on it, Hawk. Think of my kindness. You took your parents out of the picture, and don’t think for one moment that I can’t do the same with you. Heir of an empire, that matters none to the Organization. You’re all disposable. We’ve already located a cousin to be crowned heir after your body is found in a ditch by the roadside. Join us, or else, got it?”

Got it.
Open threats now, huh? I’ve got him where I want him—on his toes, trying to figure me out.

The plan is in motion.

Then of course he returns the favor, rattling me when he presses something to my cheek. I can’t keep from flinching.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? Of course you didn’t.” The small, cold object digs into my cheek, and I wonder what the hell he’s doing, until I know with sudden clarity and feel cold.

“Fuck,” I hiss.

“Yeah. Lost this, did you? That what you thought? In the struggle when we brought you here? But there was no struggle. We drugged you and picked you up, packaged you and delivered you.”

I say nothing. Fuck him.

“A hearing aid. Small enough to hide under your hair. You haven’t told anyone, have you? Not even your friends. That you’re half-deaf.”

I’m not half-deaf. I’m partially deaf, and also damn angry. I’ll bash his fucking head in, first chance I get.

“I’ll be back tonight,” he says, close to my ear, and I’m torn between gratefulness that I hear what he says and blinding fury. “Last chance. I suggest you take it.”

I close my eyes and slump back. Man, this is turning out to be much harder than I signed up for, and I need to make it work, no matter the cost.

Remember your plan. Remember you need to get out of this alive. So suck it up, Hawk, and play.

Your move.

***

Time drags. I shift on the cold floor, trying to ease the pain in my joints. My stomach is twisting up, trying to swallow itself. I’m not used to going hungry. Not used to the unrelenting burn of thirst and the pain in my head, in my arms and legs. Not even back when I lived with my grandpa and he beat his brand of discipline into me, on the principle that if it hurt I wouldn’t forget what he told me.

No, this is a brand new experience. How many millionaires get to experience such interesting things? Go, me. I’m so fucking lucky.

I drift in and out of uneasy sleep. In my dreams, my parents stare at me, accusation in their eyes. See what you did to us, they whisper. Put us in prison. Betrayed us, our only son. There’s a hell for children who betray their parents, did you know that, Jamie Fleming?

Did you know you’re going to burn in hell?

I wake up with a gasp when someone decides to use me as a punching bag again, and I wonder dimly if the Boss knows and approves of his thugs banging me up some more before I make up my mind about joining him.

Probably not, I decide when Elliot comes running and drags the guy off me. “Christ, Johnny, you moron. Boss wants him alive. What part of that don’t you get?”

Johnny-boy shoves at me until the ropes bite into my wrists and ankles hard. “He’s not gonna play along. Can’t you see that he’s a cheat? He’s playing us all.”

Damn.
Johnny-boy is turning out to be too suspicious and too spot-on for comfort.

“Taking off the blindfold would make me more agreeable to your boss’s fucking proposal,” I grumble, and it annoys me that the silence that follows bothers me. “Would help me decide in favor.” I draw a deep breath and damn but my ribs ache. “He is the big boss, isn’t he?”

Fuck, I need them to move, talk, hell even beat me. I hate not knowing what’s going on.

And then it gets worse because Elliot whips out another rag and gags me.

Goddammit!

“Let him think, then,” Elliot mutters, or I think he does as their steps move away from me.

“Take off the blindfold!” I yell from behind the gag, but of course I get no reply to my garbled words.

The door slams.

Hell.

Deep breaths. It’s fine. Okay, so I didn’t expect them to starve me and let me shrivel from thirst if these are the people who want my cooperation—but I should know better. I’ve dealt with the Chinese mafia, for chrissakes. Why should I expect that civilized people would lead this violent, all-powerful Organization?

Power strips all pretense, strips people of their humanity, their kindness, their empathy, as history has demonstrated time and again. A man who says he can replace me by some unknown cousin, who can kidnap me and be confident no repercussions will touch him, is not constrained by societal rules.

Or morals. Or remorse.

Like a snake, I think, trying to spit out the gag, tugging uselessly on my bonds. A born predator, unaware of the destruction he causes.

Like my parents. Like Rook’s parents. Got Storm’s parents killed. Got Storm almost killed. Plowed through countless people’s lives for money and riches and power.

Game on.

The Organization has its tentacles everywhere. There’s no way to know where they reach.

Unless you infiltrate it. Enter it. And what better way to get inside than to be caught? Wait, don’t answer that. Storm and Rook already gave me a piece of their mind on the subject—but it’s me the Organization heads wants. Me they hate. And they’ll have to deal with me, negotiate, and probably not kill me. Not immediately. Not unless it serves a purpose.

So I stand a good chance of finding out something.

I just need to keep my cool. No matter how bad things look, it’s all going according to plan. According to
my
plan, I repeat to myself as something clangs overhead and a door slams somewhere inside the building.

I cling to the faint sounds and work on keeping my calm.

I will stall, prod them for info, find out as much as I can, lull them into believing I am considering their offer and their threats—and hope that the cavalry will be here soon.

Layla

“Hey, Laylay,” Dorothy says over the phone, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “You’re back! How was New York? When are you coming home?”

Dorothy is my roommate and bestie, and I am about to take advantage of her. I do that often.

“Hey, Dodo.” I look up through my car window, at the café where she works. “New York was fine, but I need your help.”

“Something happen?” Her voice changes, goes high and worried. “Where are you—”

“Calm down. It’s nothing bad.” I clear my throat. “Look, I need a personality swap, ASAP.”

“A what?”

“Your clothes, your car, everything. Will you help me out?”

A long pause. “That depends. How drunk are you this time?”

“Not drunk. I need to spy on my dad.”

“You what?”

“Well, not only on him. But I need to spy on him, and the guys in his warehouse, and…” How much can I tell her? “Hey, did you see anything on the news about Hawk?”

“Tall, blond and mysterious has been quiet lately. No appearances in charity galas, no anger management issues captured by the cameras. Why?”

“Nothing.”

I ponder this.

I mean, I called 9-1-1 the moment I stepped outside the warehouse. Told them Jamie Fleming, heir to the Fleming Empire, was being held hostage in a warehouse.

They told me my prank wasn’t funny.

I insisted. Practically yelled at them that I was telling the truth.

They told me Jamie Fleming hadn’t been reported missing.

I made them call his office.

The office said Mr. Fleming is away on a business trip. And that’s where things stand.

Does Hawk have a twin brother? That could explain it.

Or I’m going crazy.

I could check out his tats. Sure way to tell it’s the guy I’ve been sleeping with. Tattoos of black roses that hide secrets he has only hinted at over the months we’ve been screwing around together. Not to mention if Jamie Hawk Fleming had a brother, I’d know about it. No way can you hide something like that from the press when you’re a millionaire.

“Lay, you there? What’s going on, girlfriend?”

“Please, help me. I will tell you everything tomorrow, okay? Promise, cross my heart and everything.”

A silence. Dorothy’s thinking, and when Dorothy is thinking, it’s serious business.

“No way to change your mind, is there?” she says in the end. “To get you to come up and spill everything. I can see you sitting in your car, you know.”

I shrug. I wasn’t hiding, not really. “Not today. There’s something I need to do.”

“Okay,” she says on a sigh. “Just keep out of trouble, Laylay. Don’t make me change my mind and ride along, and you will tell me everything tomorrow, or I’ll handcuff you to me until you do.”

She’s the best.

***

Okay, so borrowing Dorothy’s clothes may be going too far, but I do it anyway, squeezing into her black leggings and pulling her oversized sweater over it, then shrugging on her long black coat.