Wrong Side of the Tracks by Ashley Zakrzewski
ChapterEleven
Six days later, on Saturday night, Izzy knocked on Hawk’s bedroom door. She had no idea how she’d be received, but Cali had let her into the compound. He’d also told her about their arrests and their ordeal in county jail until their release.
Cali, and some of the other men she’d seen—including Drac and Volt—had been cordial to her when Cali had brought her into the main bar in the Powder House. She’d seen Mandy, Betsy, and Hannah—who wanted to know all the details about what had happened. She’d even met Acid, the president, but his scary serial killer vibe was too much for her. She could barely speak to him and was grateful when Cali intervened to bring her to see Hawk.
She had no idea what the rest of the MC knew of her and Hawk’s relationship, or how she’d been partially responsible for their arrest, and she didn’t care. Her only concern was Hawk. And the fact he blamed her for his arrest and the arrest of his brothers. And she knew he blamed her because he hadn’t returned any of her calls.
Although her calls had come from the Rebel’s Refuge bar, so it’s possible she’d missed his return call. At least that was what she wanted to believe.
She knocked again. When there was no answer, she turned to leave. A few feet away, she saw Eagle standing near the elevator, staring at her.
She cleared her throat. “Do you know where Hawk is?”
Eagle nodded toward the door. “He’s in there. But he won’t answer. I don’t think he’s left since we got home. He was awfully pissed to find out you’d been working with the FBI. Although the rest of us believe there’s more to it than what Agent Miller told us. There’s always more to the story where the Black Jacks and IRA are concerned.”
She hadn’t been working with the feds. They’d just been using her. She didn’t want to talk about with him, but she was grateful he didn’t hate her. “Will you tell Hawk I stopped by?”
“No.” Eagle came closer and crossed his arms over his chest. With his dark hair, and many tattoos, he’d perfected the cranky, badass biker look.
“Why not?”
“If you’re not willing to fight for him right here, right now, you’re not good enough for him.” He gave her a nod and walked down the hallway.
She faced the door again and banged four times. “I am not going anywhere, Hawk. Open this door. Now.”
Suddenly, the door opened and Hawk stood in front of her. His eyes were bloodshot, and he only wore jeans. No shoes, no shirt, no cut. His chest muscles rippled with every breath he took. “What do you want, Izzy? Because if you’re here to betray me again, you can leave now.”
“I’m here to talk about that.” She slipped into his room before he could shut the door. The air felt heavy and smelled sour, so she opened the window. “It stinks in here.”
He sat on the bed, with his back against the headboard and his hand clasped behind his neck. “I have nothing to say to you.”
She went back to shut the door and sat in the desk chair. “I have plenty to say to you. I did not betray you to the FBI.”
“Agent Miller showed me the texts on the phone. The phone that was receiving calls right here in this room, not long after we fucked.”
She flinched. That afternoon had been more than casual fucking, and he damn well knew it. Still, she had to control her emotions if she was going to prove the truth to him. “I don’t know why Agent Miller showed you those texts, but they were only part of the story. For months, the FBI had been pressuring me to give them that Irish artifact—”
“I know it’s an old Claddagh ring,” He looked at her bare middle finger. “I saw you wearing it a few times.”
She clasped her hands together in her lap. “The problem was, I didn’t trust anyone at the FBI. I know my stepfather has federal agents of all types on his payroll. And I had no idea how to tell whether or not Agent Miller was good or bad. But as things spun out of control, I realized I had no choice. I had to trust someone.”
“So you trusted an FBI agent you didn’t know instead of me?”
She sighed and smoothed the skirt of her white dress over her knees. “I didn’t not trust you, Hawk. I just trusted her first. But when I backed out of the deal, she got annoyed and decided to come to the Powder House to find me and force me to hand her the ring. The ring I hid here in the motel. The deal was, I give her the ring and she puts me into witness protection.”
“Witness protection is a joke,” Hawk said. “It’s not like in the movies.”
“I didn’t know that at the time.” She glanced at him, and he moved closer to the edge of the bed. “Anyway, she came to the Powder House to talk to me. Instead, she found a small war going on. She also saved me after Nine tossed me into an abandoned van.”
“Because you left the basement when I told you not to.”
“True.” She released a deep breath and met his brown gaze. “I do regret that decision.”
He shrugged. “Agent Miller had a warrant, Izzy.”
“A warrant to find the ring. Not anything else.”
“Yet we were all still arrested, and our weapons were taken.” He sat on the edge of the bed, closer to her, and leaned his forearms on his thighs. “We’re out on bail, although I’m not sure how our lawyer found that much money. The federal and state charges—”
“Have been dropped.”
He raised an eyebrow, and she heard his sharp inhale. “Excuse me?”
She stood and paced the room. “My original agreement with the FBI also included a promise to put my father in prison if I testified against him about my boyfriend’s murder and the stolen ring.”
“That’s what the witness protection was for?”
“Yes.” She coughed and kept pacing. “But after your arrests, I negotiated a different deal. You see, I realized I was the one with all the leverage.”
“Izzy?” Hawk stood and took her arm to stop her pacing. “What did you do?”
“I gave the FBI the ring in return for them dropping all the charges against you and all of your brothers.”
His eyes widened, and he frowned. “What about your father?”
“When I left home, I also took paperwork that proved my father was double-crossing his IRA contacts. That information was enough to get him on some kind of U.S. treason charges. I’m not sure of the details.” She waved a hand around the room. “Agent Miller took care of it. She also put me in touch with a special agent in charge of cultural antiquities theft. Because I returned the ring my father stole, the government of Ireland gave me a lovely reward. Not twenty million, but enough to pay your bail until the charges were dropped. And enough to set myself up with a new life, away from Boston.”
“What about your mother?” Now he took both of her arms and pulled her in close enough for her to smell his unique scent. The scent that made her knees weak and wobbly. “And your previous job and life in Boston?”
“I’m done with them.” She traced his chin with her fingers and licked her lips. “There are only two things I want, Hawk Mosby. I don’t want to ever be alone again. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
He rested his lips on her forehead. “Technically, they’re the same thing.”
She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I never meant to hurt you or the club. I would never, ever betray you. I love you.”
Hawk’s smile transformed his face, and his lips met hers in a passionate kiss that left her breathless and her breasts swollen with need. “I love you, Izzy O’Cleary. But there’s one thing I want in return for all of this trouble.”
She rested her head against his chest. “What is that?”
“Marry me.” He chuckled softly. “And be my old lady.”
She pulled away to look up at him, and his hands held her waist. His brown eyes were filled with so much happiness, it made her own vision blur with tears. “I will marry you. And I will be your old lady.” She kissed him again. “But you have to promise me one thing, too.”
His hands moved up higher, dangerously close to her breasts. “What’s that?”
“No more Saturday nights at the Rebel’s Refuge. From now on, we stay home—wherever that may end up being.” She wrinkled her nose. “Because I’m not sure about living in a moldy hotel with an outlaw motorcycle club.”
He picked her up in his arms and kissed her hard. “I promise.” When he placed her on the bed, on her back, he covered her body with his much heavier one and slowly pulled up her skirt. “From now on, darlin’, you’ll be spending your Saturday nights with me.” He ran his hand up and down her thigh, each time moving closer to what she knew he really wanted. “And I’ll make sure you remember each and every one of them.”
“Good.” She shivered, wrapped her arms around his neck, and whispered in his ear, “Kiss me, Hawk Mosby. Then love me like you’re never going to let me go.”
The End… for now.
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