Mystery Man

Chapter Thirty-Five Deal?

I felt Hawk’s lips at my hip, they disappeared but his hand moved up, taking the covers with it and I opened my eyes to see the day had just about dawned.

I twisted my neck and saw he was bent over me in the bed, fully clothed.

“Shit to do, Sweet Pea,” he muttered, then dropped his head to give me a light kiss.

“’Kay,” I muttered back when his mouth left mine.

“See you tonight,” he went on, pulling the covers up to my shoulder.

“’Kay,” I replied, turning back, tucking my hands under my cheek and closing my eyes.

I felt him shift my hair from my neck and then his lips at my ear.

“Love you, baby,” he whispered.

“Love you too, Cabe,” I whispered back.

Then he was gone.

My cell chirped telling me I had a text and my eyes opened again to see the day had now fully dawned.

It was Friday. I had work; I was facing another deadline on Monday. I was close to finishing and if I hit it that day, I’d have the weekend to do whatever I wanted. And I needed to get my work done and have the weekend to do what I wanted, most of this being relaxing. Some preliminary stuff for the first of Ginger’s trials was close to starting and Meredith, Dad and I intended to be there when she was in the courthouse. This meant I needed time to be able to be there and this meant I needed a life void of stress.

Luckily, and unusually, the second part of that was already the case. I just needed to hit it to make the first part true.

I turned in bed, lifted up and reached for my phone which was sitting by my happy kitty snow globe.

Then my eyes spied the Polaroid that Hawk must have taken out of his jacket pocket and put on the nightstand.

I picked it up and looked at it. Jury’s girlfriend, Gloria had taken it last night. It was me in my fabulous dress with my infinitely more fabulous shoes sitting in Hawk’s lap, my arms around his shoulders, his arms around my waist. My head was tipped back because I was laughing hard at something Elvira had said. Hawk was laughing too but he was doing it looking at the camera.

It was a great picture and I wished it wasn’t Polaroid because I wanted to blow it up and put it over my fireplace.

I dropped the photo, a smile playing at my lips and picked up my phone. I opened the text and my body froze but as it did, heat seared through my lungs at the same time every inch of skin tingled as if encased in ice.

It was a picture text but there was a message. The message said, Trade for Ginger. The picture was tiny but I could see it and with trembling body and shaking hands, I sat up in bed and touched my screen so the photo enlarged.

Then the whimper of fear slid up my throat.

Hawk.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Hawk.

He was hanging from something. I knew this because his arms were in the frame but high over his head. It was a photo mostly of his head, tipped forward, he looked unconscious. Blood was sliding out of his ear, down his cheek, joined by blood coming from his lip and his cheekbone was red and swelling.

The phone chirped in my hand as I stared at the photo and hyperventilated and when it did, I jumped. Then I closed the photo and went to the texts.

I had a new one. It was only one word.

Deal?

I started breathing through my nose, not able to get enough oxygen in and my eyes, of their own accord, slid to the Polaroid.

Laughing, close, happy.

“You’re in deep with me, aren’t you, baby?”

“Drowning.”

Oh God.

I closed my eyes and I saw the image in the Polaroid burned on my brain.

That was what Hawk saw for eight years. I knew it then. I got it. He saw that picture he carried in his wallet burned on his brain, every time he closed his eyes, every time his guard went down, every time his control slipped. That was why he shut everything out. That was why his world was void. So he’d never lose control and see that image on his brain, the last memory, the last happiness he thought he’d ever have.

I opened my eyes and hit reply.

Then I typed in, Deal and hit send.

Tack was walking out one of the three big bays in the garage behind the back of Ride. He’d seen my car coming.

A miracle had happened since Hawk and I became us again, Tack and I stayed us too. Of course, this didn’t include me sleeping in his bed or letting him touch his tongue to mine but I texted him whenever I thought there was something he needed to know, mostly all things smartass, and Tack texted back, mostly all things biker guy smartass reply to cosmo girl smartass comment.

And also, Tracy and I went to a Chaos party that was a freaking hoot, so much fun, and most of the time we spent with Tack and his biker babe drinking tequila shots and eating fantastic barbeque pork sandwiches.

Hawk was okay with this because he knew I was in deep with him but mostly because he took us there and picked us up. He was also okay with this because Suarez sat in a black SUV across the street from Ride, his eyes to binoculars out his window trained on the big hog roast party which was taking place in the huge cement area behind Ride.

I got out of my car and slammed the door as Tack smiled at me.

“Peaches,” he called his greeting.

I ran to him and when I closed the distance and he got a good look at my face, his smile died.

“Talk to me, Gwen,” he ordered.

“They have Hawk, they want Ginger,” I told him.

His body went tight.

“Who?” he asked on a bark.

I pulled my purse off my shoulder and dug into it, shaking my head and saying, “I don’t know.” I pulled out my phone, found the picture text, opened it and turned it to face Tack.

His eyes dropped to my phone and a muscle worked in his cheek.

“Roarke,” he clipped.

I closed my eyes.

“Dog!” Tack barked and my eyes flew open to see his neck twisted and he was looking over his shoulder at the bays.

“Tack,” I whispered, my hand came up and I curled my fingers in his tee so his head twisted back to me. “I know that you and Hawk… you and me… I know… I…” I shook my head again. “I have to get him back.”

“What’d I say to you?” His gravelly voice rumbled deep.

I blinked. “What?”

“What’d I say to you, Gwen?”

“I… I don’t know,” I whispered.

His hand came up and curled around my neck and it did this tight just before he jerked my neck gently and his face got in mine.

“I said anything for you, Gwen, anything. That means anything. Yeah?”

My eyes filled with tears, I pressed my lips together and I nodded.

“You willin’ to give up Ginger?”

Oh God.

“Do I have to?” I asked.

“You gotta tell me what you’re willin’ to do.”

I closed my eyes and he jerked my neck gently so they shot open again.

“Peaches –”

Was I going to say it?

I was going to say it.

“Anything,” I whispered, my heart breaking.

He stared into my eyes then he nodded.

Then he let me go and ordered, “Get home. I’ll call.” I nodded but didn’t move and noticed Dog and some other bikers had surrounded us. “Now, Gwen,” Tack prompted.

I nodded again then rushed to my car.

But I didn’t go home.

Because if I was willing to trade my fucked up sister, who I still loved, for my man, I was willing to do anything.

“Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?” Cam screeched.

My eyes jerked to the commandos who were manning their stations in Hawk’s command center outside Elvira’s office. I’d called the girls for an emergency meeting, both Cam and Tracy were off, Elvira was working so base it was even though I wasn’t sure base was the right place for me.

And I’d just told Cam what I needed.

“Keep your voice down,” Elvira ordered and I looked back at Cam.

“I need you to do it,” I whispered.

“First, babe, that info is not easy to come by and second, I pulled off that miracle and told you and the Feds lost their key witness in three big cases, I’d not only get my ass fired, I’d probably get it tossed into a jail cell,” Cam replied.

Shit. I hadn’t thought of that. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Shit.

Cam providing the intel on Ginger’s whereabouts was out.

Elvira had moved to her computer. “Let me work on this,” she mumbled.

“Work on what?” Tracy asked.

“I’ll pull together a file, talk to some boys, see what they got in places I can’t look. There isn’t much I can’t access but Hawk kept the Ginger shit and therefore the Roarke shit under heavy password. Zero access except him and Jorge. That don’t mean boys don’t know shit and Jorge disappeared this mornin’, off-line. He won’t know I’m tryin’ to hack.”

I looked back out at the commandos. It seemed a skeleton crew but it was business as usual. They didn’t know their boss was hanging unconscious somewhere, bleeding from his ear.

What did that mean, blood coming from your ear?

I shook my head to clear this thought and looked back at Elvira.

“Do it,” I ordered. “But proceed with caution and if you think they can help, you give it to them and mobilize but only if you think they won’t go commando and put Hawk in jeopardy.” Elvira nodded her answer to me but she did it looking at the computer screen and I turned to Cam. “But Lawson doesn’t know, nor Leo.”

“Babe, I love you and I know you care a lot about Hawk but you gotta let the cops in on this,” Cam warned.

“No!” I snapped. “No cops. I’m already taking enough chance with you being here. They’re probably watching me.”

“Oh God, do you think that’s true?” Tracy asked.

“Yes,” I replied immediately and then turned to Elvira. “You get anything, call me, I’ve gotta go.”

“Where?” Elvira asked, her eyes not leaving the computer screen.

“Nightingale Investigations,” I answered.

“Shit,” Cam muttered.

“I’ll come with,” Tracy offered and I looked at her.

“No, babe,” I told her.

“I’m coming with,” Tracy repeated.

“No, Trace, this is dangerous. Stay here, maybe you can help Elvira,” I suggested knowing this wasn’t true.

Elvira’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

“I’m coming with,” Tracy stated again.

“Trace –” I started but stopped when she grabbed my hand.

“I’m… coming… with.”

I stared into her eyes.

Then I whispered, “Okay.”

“Shit,” Cam muttered again.

Tracy sat next to me in my car. I drove and tried to be focused as panic threatened to overwhelm me. Tracy was beeping buttons on her phone.

Then the beeping stopped and she put the phone to her ear.

“Troy?” I heard her say and nearly ran off the road.

My eyes flew to her. “Trace! What are you –?”

She waved a hand at me and I looked back at the road.

Tracy kept talking. “Yeah, listen, now’s not a good time. You know those baddies who were after Ginger?” Pause. “Well, they have Hawk.”

“Tracy!” I cried.

She ignored me. “I know, I know, they want to trade him for Ginger and I need you to do your thing, find any properties owned by Nelson Roarke or any owned by any companies he’s involved with.”

Wow. That was a good idea.

That would also probably ping on some Federal Bureau of Investigation Super Nerd Computer in the basement of some federal building.

“Trace,” I tried again.

“No, of course we’re not going to do anything stupid,” she lied through her teeth.

I closed my eyes then quickly opened them and turned off Speer heading to 15^th.

“Okay, if you don’t want to help, don’t help. But if something happens to Hawk and Gwen gains seventy pounds by going on a diet of pure cookie dough, don’t come to Nordstrom’s and expect to use my employee discount!” she snapped then flipped her phone closed and stated, “He’ll run the searches. He likes Armani suits.”

“I can’t believe you did that, Trace, he could get into trouble.”

“Well, sure, but Hawk could also get dead.”

This was true.

I whimpered.

Tracy’s voice got soft. “It’s going to be okay, babe.”

I pressed my lips together and turned on 15^th.

My phone rang when we were on the sidewalk; I saw it said Tack Calling so I looked at Tracy.

“Can you get us coffees? I have to take this.”

She looked at my phone then at me then she nodded and headed toward The Market on Larimer.

I flipped the phone open and put it to my ear.

“Tack.”

“Peaches, how long they give you?” he asked.

“They didn’t,” I answered.

There was silence then, “All right, babe, there’s bad news and that’s all I got.”

My heart squeezed so I squeezed my eyes shut too to try to block out the pain.

“What’s the bad news?” I whispered.

“We went in soft to every place we know Roarke works dirty. We got nothin’. We’re outta leads.”

Shit!

I opened my eyes. “I know someone who’s a mortgage broker. He’s checking databases now. If he gets anything you haven’t got, can I feed it to you?”

“Don’t wait, babe, get his ass on it and call me.”

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“Later,” he replied then hung up.

I looked down the street where Tracy had disappeared.

Then I made a decision.

I flipped my phone open and went to my text screen.

Then I typed in, I can’t get to her but if you trade Hawk for me, you got Tack, Chaos MC, Hawk’s boys and probably Mitch Lawson who’ll find her and trade Ginger for me. No tricks. No joke. Him for me and you get Ginger. Deal?

I hit send and stood on the sidewalk waiting. People might have passed but I didn’t notice. I just stood there staring at my phone.

Then it chirped.

I flipped it open.

She’s at 83 Bannock. You get her, text. That’s the deal.

Shit! How did I get my sister out of an FBI safe house?

Shit!

My phone chirped again and I looked down at it.

Call off Chaos or you’ll get a body to bury.

I closed my eyes.

Then I opened them, flipped my phone shut, flipped my phone open and headed to my car as I called Tack.

Tracy would find her way home. She’d be pissed but she’d find her way home. And that home wouldn’t be a penitentiary which was where I was headed.

If I was lucky.

I got Tack’s voicemail, left a message that called him off, flipped my phone shut, got in my car and headed to 83 Bannock.

I sat in my car on Bannock two houses down from 83, staring at it and thinking it was a rather nice house and didn’t look like a safe house at all. Not, of course, that I knew what safe houses looked like but still.

I flipped my phone open and I went to my texts.

I typed in, Before I do this, I want proof Hawk’s all right. No pictures. I want to hear his voice.

Then I hit send.

I sat again in suspended time as I stared at my phone.

It rang, unknown caller, I sucked in breath, flipped it open and put the phone to my ear.

“Hello,” I whispered.

“Baby, do not do this shit,” Hawk growled in my ear and my eyes filled with tears as they closed.

“I’m doing it, Cabe,” I whispered, the tears sliding down my cheeks.

“Do not do it, Gwen.”

“I’m drowning,” I was still whispering.

“Gwen –”

“In you and I don’t want to come up for air.”

“Fuck. Baby –”

I heard the phone jostle then a man told me, “Do it. Text.”

Then I got dead air.

My head hit the steering wheel but I didn’t feel it or see it. My eyes were still closed and tears were streaming down my face.

Baby.

That was burned on my brain too.

Baby.

“Oh God,” I whispered, opened my eyes and stared at my thighs. “If I pull this off, Ginger, please, please forgive me.”

My breath hitched and it did it painfully, burning my throat.

Baby, do not do this shit.

Another sob tore from my throat.

Do not do it, Gwen.

My hands went to the steering wheel and held on.

Do not do it…

My fingers were curled around the steering wheel but I didn’t feel the wheel, I felt fingers curled around mine, my hand was little and they engulfed mine. In my mind, I looked up and saw Meredith with her wedding veil over her face smiling down at me.

Her fingers squeezed mine, warm and tight.

I felt my tears wet on my jeans.

Shit. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t turn over my sister, my Dad and Meredith’s daughter for my man. I couldn’t do it.

I let the steering wheel go and covered my face with my hands as the sobs burned up my throat, so powerful, they shook my shoulders.

“Baby,” I cried into my hands that picture in the Polaroid all I could see against my closed eyelids. “Oh God, baby,” I whispered as my shoulders heaved.

The passenger door flew open, my back shot straight, my head turned and through my tears I stared in stunned shock as Ginger jumped into the passenger seat.

“What the –?” I breathed.

“Drive!” she shouted.

“What?” I asked.

“Drive, bitch, drive!” she screamed.

I blinked then straightened, turned the key in the ignition and shot from the curb.