Page 25 of Hawk

“Won’t your boss be mad at you for wasting time on someone like me who can’t pay?”

“First of all, I don’t have a boss, babe. Iamthe boss.” He paused for a minute and let that sink in.

“Isn’t Wolfe the boss?” I’d only met him a couple of times at the club, but Wolfe just had this presence that made me believe he was the one in charge no matter where he was.

Hawk laughed. “It’s called Three Bears Tactical for a reason.”

“So you, Wolfe, and…”

“Gator.”

“No way. Really? He doesn’t seem like a business owner at all. He’s too—” I paused, trying to think of a word that described Gator, but nothing was coming to me.

“Rough around the edges,” Hawk said.

“Exactly.”

“I know. He’s a fun guy, but I can tell you when your back’s to the wall, there’s no better guy to have by your side.”

I thought Hawk was wrong because if my back was against the wall, Hawk’s the man I would want by my side.

Hawk

Mika went back to cooking breakfast. He shoved the bowl of eggs he’d been whisking to the back of the counter. He went to the air fryer, put some bacon in, and turned it on. Then he turned back to look at me.

“If you could stay until Jesse and Andy get back, I guess that would be okay, but when they get back, I can always go stay with them.”

“And when Andy’s on shift and Jesse’s at work? What will you do then?”

“I—” He paused and let out a sigh. “I don’t know, but you can’t just put your life on hold while we wait for Butch to show back up.”

“First of all, I can, and I will. Next, we aren’t just waiting for him to show up. I already have our best person working on gathering as much info as possible on both Butch and the Iron Jackals.”

“Do the other owners know you’re using Three Bears resources to help me?”

“Why don’t you let me worry about my business, and you worry about your bacon?”

“Oh shit! The bacon.” He rushed over to the air fryer, pulled it open, then let out a relieved sigh. “It’s okay.” He glared back over his shoulder. “You distracted me.”

“So it’s my fault if you ruin our breakfast?”

He stiffened for a second, so I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile so he would know I was teasing.

He let out a little sigh then smiled and said, “Exactly.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “You’re something else, mouse.”

“You keep calling me mouse. What’s that about?” He poured the eggs into the pan and then looked at me, waiting for an answer.

“You’re small, you’re adorable, and when you’re trying to figure something out, you do this cute little thing where you scrunch up your nose. The first time you did that, I had this thought that I wanted to put you in my pocket and take you home with me.”

“You did not.”

“I did, too.”

“And when exactly was that?”

“The night of Mars and Samuel’s Christmas party.” I was probably giving him way too much leverage there. If he figured out just how long I’d been keeping an eye on him, it probably wouldn’t make him happy.

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