“Hey now, Fred, you remember what happened the last time when you got a little too aggressive with the waitresses.” Mandy stepped between me and the drunk, shielding me from his glazed-over stare.
“That little bitch doesn’t know what she’s talking about. My ass ain’t drunk. You have any idea how much I can pound back?” He slurred, his voice putrid with the smell of acid and alcohol. Drunks like him were why I loathed my job so much. “Tell the whore to fucking get lost, and you pour me another drink.”
I felt myself shrinking the more he spoke to me.
“Apologize.” A strong, familiar voice bellowed beside the drunk. I looked up to see Hawk standing there, his arms crossed against his chest, looking down at Fred like he was nothing more than a cockroach. I hated how I felt when I saw him. Relief flooded through me, happiness replacing fear. I should have been pissed, I should have told him that I could protect myself, and he could fuck right off. But I was so grateful that he was there, with me, near me.
“I ain’t apologizing for shit. That bitch needs to learn to mind her fuckin’ business,” Fred said, standing up to face Hawk. I couldn’t help thinking that the alcohol must have muddied up his damn head, because he didn’t stand a chance sober, let alone drunk. There he stood, just above Hawk’s elbow, looking up at him in some weak form of defiance.
Hawk just laughed before stepping closer, the sheer mass of his body completely crowding Fred. “You want to say that again?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I ain’t apologizing for shit,” Fred said, not moving, yet his hands were shaking more than they were a few moments ago. Hawk just nodded his head and in the blink of an eye, he grabbed Fred by the head and banged it so hard against the bar counter that I thought he was rendered unconscious. Mandy screamed, calling for the bouncer to come and break it up and I just stood there, immobile, taken back to a different time and place.
“Izzy. Izzy, do something,” Mandy called, her voice frantic. It felt like her voice was coming from far away, even though she was standing there in front of me, her hands on my shoulders, shaking me to get my attention. “Izzy. Snap the fuck out of it!” She yelled.
My gaze shot up at her and I saw the fear and dread in her eyes.
“He’s going to kill him, Izzy,” she said, her voice much softer, the fear evident. Something about the tone of her voice made me finally look over to Hawk, crouched on the floor, on top of Fred, mercilessly punching him. I could see that Fred wasn’t moving, but Hawk kept going at it, punch after punch, blow after blow.
“Hawk,” I finally managed to say. That made him stop. Me just barely whispering his name took him out of the haze of his raging hatred, ending the violence that he was unleashing. I wrapped my shaking hand around his bloodstained one, moving it away from the lifeless body on the ground.
“Check to see if he is breathing.” I ordered the bouncer, Mac, a hulk of a man that usually was very frightening on his own. I watched him as his arm was around Mandy, making sure she was ok. She nodded her head right before he walked over and checked Fred’s pulse.
“He’s breathing,” Mac said. “How about we get you to the hospital, old man.” He tried to lift Fred off the ground.
“I don’t need a fuckin’ hospital,” he said. “Just pour me another drink.”
He was barely able to hold himself up, but he slithered his way to the bar stool and Mac moved beside Mandy, prepared to give Fred another beating to add on to Hawk’s.
“Fred, I think it’s best you go home,” Mandy said, pulling a bottle of rum from behind the bar and handing it to him. “Take this and get the fuck out.”
Fred took the bottle from her, and Mac escorted him out the front door.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” I yelled at Hawk, turning all of my attention on him.
Chapter 6
Hawk
I couldn’t handle the way she was looking at me, her pretty brown eyes filled with shock and fear. I hated myself at that moment. I felt like a sorry motherfucker. I didn’t want her to ever look at me the way she was right then. The hurt in her eyes was like a fucking punch to my gut.
The straight truth was that I’d fucking blanked, saw rivers of red and gone back to the time I’d witnessed my fist hit with the Don. Late one night, in the back of a parking garage, the Don and one of his soldiers had pounded the pulse out of a guy for cutting money off the back end of the laundering hustle the family maintained. He’d been hired to protect the money, not steal it to shove powder up his nose, I remembered the Don screaming before blood soaked my shoes. I was only seventeen then and I still shuddered at the memory.
“Did you hear me?” She demanded, now standing over me, her small hand at her hips. I couldn’t help smiling at her attempt at being defiant, even when I could visibly see her fear. It was obvious that she grew up around our world. A world of murderers and criminals. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen violence and if she was going to be with me I couldn't promise it would be the last.
“He was being disrespectful,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
“That’s all you’ve got to say to me? You beat a man senseless for just being a stupid drunk!” She yelled.
“I don’t think this is the best place to discuss this,” I whispered in her ear.
She shivered, and I saw the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention, goosebumps rising on her flesh.
“Fine,” she said, defiantly. “Then let’s go outside.” With that, she turned on her heels and walked out, forcing me to follow her. The truth was there really wasn’t much forcing--I would have followed my Daisy to the hottest parts of hell.
When we were outside, she started pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, her pretty face in a frown. She kept on mumbling something to herself, so low that I doubt anyone could actually hear her. I leaned against the brick wall beside the front door of the bar and just looked at her. She was so fucking beautiful. I’d seen a lot of beautiful things in my life, things that almost offset the ugliest moments I’d witnessed, but not a single one of them could hold a candle to her. I smiled, thinking about how many fights we would have for the rest of our lives, her livid at me for something or another and me just waiting to hold her and begging her to forgive me. It wouldn't matter if it was my fault or hers, as long as she was in my arms.
I shook the lovesick fog from my head. I knew how crazy it all was, my feelings for her, the fucked up situation we were in, the fact that there were so many people to answer to and the reality that I didn’t even know if we would come out of this alive.
All I knew was that I would risk the world to have her in mine.
She finally looked up from her constant pacing and glared at me. “Well, don’t just stand there, answer me,” she demanded.
I pushed myself off the wall and walked over to her. I couldn’t pull back the smile that was plastered on my face.
“You’d better wipe that smirk off your face, Hawk.”
“Would if I could, but I can’t. You’re too fucking cute when you’re mad as hell.”
“None of this is remotely funny.” The fire in her voice burned low, not as hot as it was moments before.