Page 121 of Filthy Love

Two Prez's. Two VPs and a locked door.

They'd discussed murder like they were organizing a summer tea party and needed to decide on which fancy cakes to have catered.

“It's as Steele said. We put Grigori six feet under now we're just begging his boss to send someone else, plus, it'll come with a side order of a hit on you or all of us. You really wanna wake up dead, Ri?”

Rider cast him a raised brow which morphed into a scowl. “This from my resident bloodbath maker. Thought you'd be the first one on the kill the asshole bandwagon.”

Hawk scoffed. “You know I got a hurt on to kill him and if that’s what you decide I’ll do it.” More so after what the Russian had dared do to Gia. “But we've looked at it front and back and the way to get him to go the fuck back to his cold country is to cut off his funds. While he thinks we're cool with him running his illegals through he hasn’t seen how we're chopping down his money tree.”

Lawless was all over getting Grigori’s funds siphoned to an untraceable account assisted by Texas.

They kept on walking.

Streets were overflowing with people in and out of the bars on main street.

It felt good to stretch his legs.

Even now people sensed to keep a good space between themselves and Hawk.

Hawk added when Rider didn't reply.

“Didn't say we couldn't take out his generals though. Leave little Grigori all alone and vulnerable with no one at his side.”

Rider chuckled.

“There's the killer I know. We hit him at the money and his crew and send him back home with the message that trying to take Colorado is more trouble than it’s worth.” Before they stepped intoSantino’sbar Rider asked. “You agreeing with Steele. Another first. What's got into you lately?”

Keeping his trap shut was the easy part. Not telling anyone about the shit that went on inside his head was second nature. Besides which it gave Hawk the scratch anything touchy-feely. That was if it wasn't Gia related and he didn't reckon Rider would wanna know what had his mood elevated was because his little bit was his sanity.

She made him fucking laugh yesterday, swear to god he nearly had a ruptured rib or something like that. All the while Gia shined her special grin at him like he'd bought her diamonds.

He read once that chicks loved the gems.

Maybe he'd see about getting her something nice.

Did they makethanks for the fucksjewelry? Maybe not. What the hell did he know anyways about doing something nice? Two nights after he’d been in heaven between Gia’s thighs he still didn’t have any fucking answers to what he did now.

There was no putting his obsession back in its box, that much he knew.

“Just good to be back home.” He said. “C’mon, he’s already here.” He gestured to a back table.

“Rider. Hawk.” Charlie Timmons the local sheriff rose and greeted them both, shaking Rider’s hand. Hawk kept his in his pockets but slid into a seat opposite the do-gooder law man dressed in civilian clothes. “You gonna explain what I’m doing here instead of home with my wife in front of a shitty movie she loves, or you wanna keep being a cryptic bastard?” Asked Charlie.

Santino’swasn’t the usual haunt for any of theSouls, but they were known everywhere and would be afforded privacy from the other drunks and idiots in there. If nothing else seeing Hawk sitting at the table tended to keep people away.

The do-gooder with his sweep of blond hair and just all around fucking angelic demeanour despite his shit job had known Rider since they were kids. But you take an outlaw who thumbed his nose at the law and a cop and you’d find they didn’t have much in common.

Only, Charlie and Rider both loved the town and from what the brothers heard, Charlie had been dealing with shit problems from Grigori’s men for a few months now. Mainly drunken disorderly, handling stolen goods, harassing woman and causing a disturbance wherever they went. But since Grigori had a team of lawyers no charges could ever stick to thebratva.

Hawk idly listened to the conversation between the two men. He knew the deal already so didn’t need to chime in. Besides which, he was Rider’s right-hand man, he let the boss do the talking while he sat and looked scary.

At that Hawk’s phone vibrated. He frowned looking at the Nebraska area code. Pressing red, it wouldn’t go to voicemail because he hated those things and deactivated the service.

It rang again immediately. And then again. And again.

Fuck.

He rose from the table. “Be a minute.” He gruffed to his president, striding outside. “What?” He barked into the phone, irritated.

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