Hawk
I’d had a hell of a day. Actually, I’d had a hell of a week. After going over everything we’d learned from Danny, we decided it was time for us to set up a meet with his handler. We’d have Danny call him with another large order, and when he went to meet up with Miller to pick it up, we’d be there. One way or another, we would get the answers we were looking for. While we were dealing with the Danny bullshit, we were also busy trying to get the new strip club up and running. Viper had gotten the permits we needed, and we’d started up construction. Some of the bigger stuff, like electrical and plumbing, had been hired out, but the brothers and I were doing what we could to take care of the rest. Viper wanted the business running as quickly as possible, so we’d been at it night and day, busting our asses to get it all done. By the time we finished installing the drywall in the main bar, I was exhausted and in need of a break. I went to the clubhouse and took a hot shower with the intention of calling it an early night, but as soon as I got out, I decided to get dressed and head off on my bike. The next thing I knew, I was parked outside of Delilah’s apartment.
I’d checked the tracker on her car. I knew she hadn’t made it home yet, but there I sat, waiting for her red two-door sedan to pull up. I told myself that I just needed a quick glimpse of her to make sure that she was okay, and then I’d go. It seemed like a simple plan until Mrs. Tate came along. Poor thing stood out there for over twenty minutes calling that damn cat, but he refused to come down. I felt sorry for the lady, so I went over and offered to help. I never imagined that Delilah would walk up just as I got up in that damn tree. I managed to get the cat down, and for my efforts, I got an invitation to dinner. I hadn’t intended on staying, but there was no way in hell I was going to pass up a chance to be alone with Delilah. I tried not to sound too eager when I replied, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Great.” She smiled as she started towards the door. “Come on up.”
I followed her inside and up a flight of stairs, and a minute later, we were walking into her apartment. It was small, just one-bedroom with a little kitchen and living room, but it was full of southern charm and sass—just like Delilah. As I followed her over to the kitchen, I told her, “Nice place.”
“Thanks.” She placed the bags of groceries on the counter, then started putting them away. “It’s not much, but it’s close to work and I like my neighbors.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“About four months ... maybe a little longer.” She placed a thick salmon filet on a pan and started to season it. “Baked salmon okay?”
“Yeah, that’d be great. Can I give you a hand with something?”
“You could peel these.” She handed me the bag of potatoes as she pointed over to the stove. “There’s a peeler thingie in the drawer next to the stove.”
“Got it.”
After I grabbed it out of the drawer, I went over to the sink and got to work. My back was to her when she asked, “Can I get you a soda or a beer?”
“A beer would be good.” I heard the refrigerator door open, and seconds later she placed the bottle on the counter next to me. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” I could feel her eyes on me as she stood there for a moment, silently watching me before walking back over to the stove. As she started seasoning the salmon, she asked, “Can I ask you a question?”
“What’s on your mind?”
“I was just thinking about your real name. I’m guessing it isn’t Hawk.”
“No, it isn’t.” I chuckled. “That’s my road name. My real name is Zander Michaels.”
“Zander. Hmm ... I was thinking it would be something more like Malachi or Isaac.” she teased.
“Malachi, huh?”
“Yeah,” she giggled, “he who walks behind the rows ... and all that.”
“You’re a smartass. That’s all there is to it.”
“Just calling ’em like I see ’em, Zander.” I won’t deny that there was a slight awkwardness between us. Hell, I’d be a fool to think that things would just be easy with all that had gone down with her brother, but moments like this made me wonder if we could find our way around it all. She turned her attention back to the salmon, and once she had it all prepped, she slipped it into the oven. When I finished the potatoes, she sliced them up and placed them in a pot. Her back was to me as she said, “You know, you’ve never really told me anything about the Ruthless Sinners. I’m guessing from all the motorcycles and leather, you’re a motorcycle gang or something.”