Page 22 of Hawk
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Hawk
Gear growls at us when we get back to the clubhouse. I know how he feels about drugs and I know how he feels about bailing chicks out. However, he has to understand we take care of our own.
“So, this is what we do now?” He grunts the second we park our bikes and walk into the clubhouse.
“We take care of our own, dude. You know that and I know that. Why you fightin’ me on this?” I question and block his way from getting into the clubhouse.
The last thing I need is for him to get into the clubhouse with his bad attitude.
He looks at me but his eyes are looking other places. He’s not really seeing me and he doesn’t care about my reasons for doing what I did. It was only a couple of grand we paid the asshole, but it did more than he realizes.
It shows the girls at the club that we care about them and want them to get off that shit. Also, it shows that they are able to trust us.
“You wanna get into it right now, prez?” Gear flippantly throws out.
I stretch my neck out. “Nah, what I need is somethin’ to swing at. You game?”
“Fuck yeah! Get ‘em, Gear!” One of the brothers calls out from inside of the clubhouse. I guess that means they are listening to the conversation.
Sneaky assholes.
“Yeah, let’s do it!” Gear chants and makes a fist.
I’m a strong dude, don’t get me wrong. I’ve lifted weights my whole life. I’ve done my time in the gym and I’ve done my time fighting. Gear, on the other hand, is a fuckin’ monster.
One thing for sure is I’m not going to let this asshole kick my ass in front of my brothers. Fuck no.
The brothers and I have always had an open relationship and I believe they respect me for that. I’ve listened to what they are expecting and all of that shit, but I can’t keep having people undermine me.
Gear is already in the make-shift ring we have in the back of the clubhouse. We constructed it a few years ago as a safe place to let our aggression out. We’re men, and we have aggression!
I’m climbing through the ropes as Maucho appears with a smug look on his face.
“Do I want to know?” I ask him.
He shrugs.
Fuck it. I’ll deal with it after this fight.
Gear is the first one to come charging at me. He pushes his shoulder into my chest to get me to fall down but I sidestep him. I do it so quickly that he falls down onto the ground.
I’m not a pussy so I don’t get down on the ground and go to work on the fucker. Nah, that’s child’s play. I wait for him to limb up and charge at me again. This time he hits me in the jaw with his fist.
Ah, so that’s how he wants to play.
For the next couple of minutes, we take turns swinging at each other. Each jab I make that connects with his face or torso, has me feeling a little better about trying to get to know a woman who’s got a man.
Every fist that hits my body, is another reminder that something’s bothering Gear.
A bell is rung in the background of the haze of brothers yelling at us to continue or to stop. Some of the brothers love the fights while others think they’re stupid.
I’m not one to think either way on the situation. Sometimes you just need to take a swing at something.
Bull steps up at the corner of the ring and yells at us. “That’s enough beatin’ the shit outta each other. If you can still fight, you should look into doin’ something else!”
Bull’s been around since the club started in 1994. The man is older than fuck, but he’s a good brother who cares. He never wanted to be president and makes it well known. Whenever someone asks him if he will become president one day, he says no.
