Page 5 of Hawk

“I think that’s awesome. Hawk knows his stuff, so I’m sure you’ll learn a lot.”

“I hope so. I kind of expected Gator to be teaching the class, but when I got there, it was Hawk. He’s kind of scary.” I swear the man was a full foot taller than me, with muscles for days. At only five foot four, I was used to most guys towering over me, but Hawk was next-level tall.

“Hawk? Nah, he’s a sweetheart.”

“I’m sure he is, but he’s a fucking giant, and he doesn’t have a sense of humor—or at least if he does, I haven’t seen it. He’s all super serious, like each of us in the class are in immediate danger.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that, but he’s hot, so at least there’s that.”

I shrugged like I hadn’t noticed that Hawk was pretty much the hottest guy I’d ever seen. “I guess. He totally isn’t my type, though.” That was a lie.

I’d always been attracted to guys who were bigger and stronger than me—and if they had a little bit of a bad attitude, even better.

But that was the old me. Experience had taught me that guys like that were nothing but trouble. If I ever decided to take another stab at a relationship, I was going for a nice, gentle guy. Men like that might not rev my engine, but they were safe—and there was something to be said for safe.

Our server returned with our drinks and our tacos, saving me from any further questions about my type or about Hawk. I took a sip of the drink and grinned.

“Oh yeah, that’s just what I needed.”

Two hours and four of the strongest margaritas ever later, we tipped our waitress and waited for Mars’s Daddy to come pick us up and take us home.

Chapter two

Hawk

“Up till now, y’all worked on advanced shooter drills and shoot-don’t-shoot scenarios, but this afternoon, we’re gonna do something different. We’re gonna work on knife defense. Have any of you ever run up against an assailant with a knife?”

“I have,” one of the guys said.

“What’s your name?” Today was my first day out at the camp with this group, so I hadn’t learned all their names yet. My marksmanship skills were top-notch—everyone at Three Bears Tactical Services was—but firearms training wasn’t my specialty. I was much more of a hand-to-hand guy.

“Joshua. Joshua Ward,” he said.

“How did that go for you, Joshua?”

He lifted his shirt to show a scar on his stomach. “Got this souvenir for my trouble.”

I nodded. “Yeah, knives are hard to defend against. Honestly, your best defense in a knife situation is a good offense, and that’s what we’re gonna be working on today.”

“Bobby,” I called, and the young kid who worked for us at the camp hurried over with a bucket filled with our training knives. “Thanks.”

“We’ll start with these.” I reached into the bucket and pulled out a handful of the rubber knives. I handed each of the sheriff’s deputies one. Law enforcement officers made up the majority of our training here at the camp. These guys worked in a stressful job where every decision could be life or death, which meant training was key.

“Bobby and I are gonna do a demonstration, and hopefully that”—I pointed at Josh’s stomach—“doesn’t happen again. You ready, Bobby?”

“Sure am.” He grinned at me and tossed his training knife back and forth from one hand to the other. His was different from theirs. It was something called a marker blade that had a metal handle and a blade made of chalk that would leave a mark anywhere he would’ve cut me.

“So the first thing I want to talk to you guys about is how to approach a guy with a knife. You want to use what we call an X formation.” I demonstrated by lifting my arms and crossing them at the wrists with my fingers turned toward me. “Anybody know why I have my arms facing this direction?”

“’Cause you’re in a better position to punch the guy like that,” someone called out.

“What’s your name?”

“Ted Silva.”

I separated my wrists and threw a couple of fake punches in Bobby’s direction. “Good guess, Ted, but no, that’s not why. Simple fact is, if you’re facing an assailant with a knife, there’s a good chance you’re gonna get cut. And we want to make sure if that happens, it does the least amount of damage.”

I crossed my wrists again and lifted them back up, facing out toward Bobby this time. “Okay, come at me, dude.”

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