Page 23 of Hawk

Slate nodded and repeated the info he’d shared with the rest of us. “Word on the street is that they’re looking to get a few girls and maybe buy the old strip club downtown.”

“We can’t let that happen,” Rocky said, and pounded his fist on the table. “These assholes are wild cards. If they’re looking for girls, they’re definitely looking to dip their toe into trafficking.”

“If that happens, there will be no peace for any of us.”

“That’s for goddamn sure,” I added. “So, we’re hitting that warehouse?”

“Not yet,” Diesel answered with a knowing smile. “We ought to sit down and talk to them first.”

I disagreed. “If we do that, they might go after Laura.”

“Then you’ll have to spend more time with the pretty nurse to keep her safe,” Rebel offered with a grin.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, and what about any of the innocent people at the hospital or community center who might come between her and them?”

“We’ll figure out a way to sit down with them without starting any shit. Not yet, anyway.” Diesel’s jaw clenched and I knew he was thinking hard about what the next few months would look like if Los Ochos made trouble.

Not if, when.

My phone rang before I could say anything more, and even though I didn’t recognize the number, I picked it up. “Yeah?”

“Hello. Is this Dominic?” The voice was feminine and tearful, and I knew who it was instantly.

“It’s me, Mrs. Winchester. What can I do for you?” I felt all eyes on me as I focused on Melanie’s voice.

“I’m not sure, honestly. But when I arrived at the bakery today, the whole damn place was vandalized. Windows were broken, the door hinges on one of my ovens too. I just… I’m not sure what to do anymore. And then those creeps came around asking for money.”

“Shit,” I bit out, and pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’ll be right there. Don’t open the door for anyone.”

“Thank you, Dominic.”

I hadn’t done anything yet, so I simply nodded and ended the phone call. When I looked up, all of my brothers stared at me with knowing smiles. “What?”

“You’re the goddamn patron saint of needy women, brother.” Slate’s smile spread slowly before he laughed at his own joke.

“Shut the fuck up,” I grunted, even though I couldn’t hide my smile. “Her husband was murdered by these fuckers and now they’re still trying to shake her down.”

“I’m coming with you,” Rocky said, and stood with a scowl.

Diesel nodded. “Whatever we can do to help,” he said as his gaze connected with Rocky’s.

“Got it.”

Ten minutes later, Rocky and I stopped in front of the Winchester Bakery. Just like Melanie said, the front windows were all busted out, the awning was shredded to pieces, and even the inside was a mess.

“What the fuck is wrong with them?” Rocky was furious, and like me, I knew he was hoping to catch Los Ochos right fucking now.

Looking inside the bakery, I saw nothing but destruction inside. Those dainty little fucking chairs had splintered legs, tables were broken in half, and the glass display case was covered in spray paint. “Desperation,” I answered. “This looks to me like they need money. Badly.”

“You think?” Rocky turned to me as I rapped my knuckles on the doorframe.

“Yeah. Think about it. What would be the point in doing this? She said they broke her oven door. Without it, how the fuck can she sell baked goods to pay them? They’re not thinking straight.” It made me wonder why they were so desperate for cash.

“You think they owe someone?”

“Fuck yeah, I do,” I said as Melanie came to the door, relief on her face as she spotted me through the window. “I’m curious to know who that someone is.” I shot off a quick text to Slate with my suspicions before Melanie opened the door.

“Dominic, thank you for coming.”

---