Page 36 of Filthy Love

Hawk was unfazed.

“Do I have to tell you again to get your fucking hand off her and allow her to get out of here?”

The shorter of the two Russians laughed, patted his pocket, Hawk saw the bulge of a weapon. So, fucking what, he was strapped with three hunting knives and a steel pipe wrench tucked into the waistband of his pants, as pissing contests go he was winning.

“We are not conducting business with you, the last time you killed five of my men.”

Gia visibly blanched but otherwise his little bit didn't utter a word. Hawk arched a bored brow at Grigori.

“Shouldn't that tell you something. You’re fucking with the wrong headcase right now and you don’t even know it. Now shift your fat fucking asses and let her leave before you really piss me off. This is Renegade Souls business. The only representative that will talk to you. Here I am. We'll talk.”

They wouldn't talk. He had no intention of negotiating. The moment they’d detained Gia they'd all stamped their own death warrant. Rider might handle things differently, what with having a deal going with the Russians now, maybe not. But Hawk could give a fuck, it was he who Gia called for this shitstorm.

“Nyet.” No. “I like her company.” Grigori’s pet smirked serpent-like and made the monumental mistake of running a hand down her sleeve as if petting her skin. Trying to show Hawk who was in charge.

Hawk saw Red. He saw every fucking color in the spectrum of his anger.

Gia pulled back her arm tucking it into her chest. “Stop fucking pawing me, asshole, I won't tell you again.”

Grigori’s man made an oomph sound, she'd obviously kicked him under the table.

Hawk loved her courage, but not while she was around dangerous men who didn't think twice about using women as sport and leverage. He growled his own warning, glaring.

“So obstinate,malyshka. I like it. hands off her, Borya.” Grigori smirked. “Why did the president himself not come, VP? He must not care very much for someone we hear is important. How soon he forgets we made deals and he tries to back out.” Eyes turned to Hawk.

“Firstly, you moron, this is Texas. Rider is in Colorado. Second. Any deals that were struck are now null and fucking void.”

“Why?”

One finger pointed at Gia. His killer gaze trained on the man boxing her in, even as he was aware of every breath she took, each twitch of her perfect fingers and the way she was doing her own looking in his direction. Hawk clocked it all, his blood pounding, his heart hammering. Nothing much scared him. She was his weakness is a world of shit. Forget the cancerous nightmares clawing inside his brain, the voices that told him he was nothing, and never would be anything. With every changing fleck of color in her irises he became more unstable.

They didn't know what Pandora's horror story they'd just opened.

He'd kill them for fun. Now they'd made it personal.

“What, her? Pah. Since when do the Renegade Souls give a fuck about disposable bitches, she is not even marked.” Both Russians chuckled. It only infused the gas to Hawk's fire. He waited until their noise simmered before announcing in his dark voice.

“Since you're stallingmyold lady from leaving, dipshit.”

“Your——your... she isyours?” All color drained from Grigori's already white face. Fucking Russians needed some sun in their life. He looked at his buddy who was also in the blanched phase of realization of what they'd done and to who.

He loved his reputation.

Rider was the calm man. Hawk the maniac.

Bad mistakes came in threes.

“She is mine.”

To be fair he gave credit to Gia who didn't question his statement. What with him avoiding her at every turn, he could understand her askingwhat the fuck, Hawkwith her eyes.

It was said for their benefit not hers. His gaze pinned Grigori who was now shuffling out, ushering Gia from the booth. Almost fucking bowing with his nose to the floor, he re-buttoned his long wool overcoat and slid back into his seat. “I—Hawk, listen, we did not know she was yours.”

“This is all just big mistake, we fix it,da? We were not told this, who she belong to.” The other stupid Russian imparted in broken English, eyes wild and afraid. Hawk could have licked the air. “You laugh and share vodka with boss like friends.”

“To my bike, Gia.” He nodded his head, watched her closely, counting her every inhale.

There was time for her to have a freak out, to scream in his face if need be, once he had her somewhere safe, so his chest could stop feeling like he’d drank concrete.

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