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Fiction Friday: Dance with the Devil – Chapter 9

Well, we’re almost to the end. I have Chapter 9, the next to last chapter, of Dance with the Devil today. I’m about to start revising the next in the series, Staring at the Sun, Cassie & Icarus’ story. So you shouldn’t have to wait too long for me to stat posting that. For now, here’s the beginning of Chapter 9.

When we pulled up to the garage at the clubhouse, I was surprised to see how empty it was. “I thought everyone was sticking close until this thing with the Crows is over,” I said to Hawk as we put our bikes away.

His gaze coasted over the bikes still in the garage. “Icarus wanted to increase patrols until we’re ready to move on it. The two of us and Dive are to stick close, since we’ve been the ones targeted by them directly.”

Damn it. That was not what I wanted to hear. “I don’t need to be protected. I can take care of myself.” Hawk stood there and stared at me. “Okay, so they caught me by surprise the last time. Doesn’t meant it will happen again.”

He took a step toward me, his leather-clad thigh pressing against mine. “You know what it would do to me if it did? They wouldn’t have to come after me, because I would be utterly destroyed. You might think you aren’t important, but you have to see how much you are to me. I’d do anything to make sure you don’t stop breathing. Don’t forget that, Damon.”

I didn’t think I could breathe now. No one had ever made it so clear how much they cared for me. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. “Let’s get inside,” I said when I finally pulled back.

Hawk’s lips curled up, then we were both stripping off our chaps and rolling them back up to store in our saddlebags. We left the garage, and he closed the door behind us, pulling me in for another kiss before heading up to the house.

To my surprise, we didn’t run into anyone on the way up to the clubhouse. Usually there was at least one or two people wandering around the yard. It was still a little chilly out, so maybe everyone was inside.

I stopped thinking about that when Hawk snaked an arm around my waist as we neared the porch and pressed a kiss to the back of my neck. I wanted him so bad right then. But, there was no way we could do this right here. The guys might be okay with us being together, but I couldn’t imagine them caring to witness it.

Inside. We just had to get inside. And up to one of our rooms. Hopefully no one would stop us on the way. I might keel over if I had to wait much longer.

We barely even made it through the doorway. His mouth was on mine again, and he pressed me to the wall right next to the door. Holy shit. My engine was revving so much I was about to overheat. I moaned against his mouth then his fingers were in the loops of my jeans, pulling me away from the wall and toward the stairs.

If you want to read the rest of the chapter, you can check it out here. I’ll have the final chapter next week.

WeWriWa: “In That Position”

Welcome back to another visit with the Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop for anyone who likes to write. I have another snippet from Hawk’s story. This picks up right after last week’s. I got rather creative with the punctuation to make it all fit.

For as long as I’d known him, that store had been the one thing he cared for most. How could he say it didn’t matter now? It had been my safe place when I was a teen, a refuge away from my father’s rages. He’d just abandon that now?

I opened my mouth to argue, but Damon put his hand on my thigh, derailing my train of thought. My body instantly reacted to his touch, and I saw his mouth curved up, but, his voice was serious when he said, “Bentley’s right. He could be used against us. I can’t see you in that position again, Gavin, I just can’t.”

My chest cracked open at his words; I knew we both still had nightmares even though it had been months since the Ivory Crows had used me as bait against him. They’d known exactly how he’d react when he found out I was in danger, and he hadn’t disappointed them; it had nearly gotten us both killed.

Are they going to get into another situation like that? Will Bentley abandon the shop?

And I have Chapter 8 of Dance with the Devil up on Wattpad. So, you can check that out if you’re so inclined.

Fiction Friday: Dance with the Devil – Chapter 8

I’m here with Chapter 8 of Dance with the Devil. Only two more to go after this one. Here’s the beginning of the chapter.

I started to think I’d never be able to move without some kind of pain. I wasn’t out of bed for more than using the bathroom for two days. Even then, someone had to accompany me in case I fell. It was humiliating. I should be able to at least handle that myself. The guys had to be looking down at me for my weakness. But, none of them acted all that different around me.

Except for Hawk. He’d been avoiding me since I’d first woken up. Sure, I saw him around the clubhouse from time to time, but he hardly spoke to me. I thought back to what Icarus told me. Was I hurting him that much? Didn’t he know he’d be better off without me anyway?

It didn’t matter. I had my arm out of the sling, and Medusa said it was strong enough I didn’t have to do the exercises she’d given me every day anymore. My ribs were all healed up, and I could run up and down the steps with hardly getting winded.

Now we were finally planning to go after the Crows. We’d been trying to avoid it. Even after they’d shot at Trace several months back. Icarus had wanted to hit back at them, but he didn’t want to bring more trouble down on us. We’d been taking things slowly, carefully.

They’d decided enough was enough. I hadn’t been involved with that meeting, since I had still barely been able to make it up and down the stairs without help. It didn’t matter. The vote had been almost unanimous. It was nice when the club came together like that.

I stepped out onto the porch. I could finally walk outside without having to have anyone help me. To not have to ask anyone if they can help me to sit out on the porch. I wasn’t going to take that for granted. It had been the most lowering thing.

At least that’s what I kept telling myself. This hollow feeling inside me didn’t have anything to do with Hawk. I didn’t miss him every day he wasn’t at my side. And whose fault was that anyway?

Mine. It was all mine. I’d pushed him away again and again. Why would I think he’d choose to stick around? He wasn’t some toy I could keep on a string, pulling him back when it suited me. He deserved so much more than that.

I stepped down off the porch, trying not to think too much about that. I had a new bike, and I’d finally be able to ride it. Waiting for Medusa to give me the all clear for that had been worse than anything I’d ever waited for before.

You can find the rest of the chapter here.

WeWriWa: “The Shop Can Rot”

Welcome back to another visit with the Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop for anyone who likes to write. I’m still sharing from Hawk’s story, and it still doesn’t have a title. I’ll have to come up with one eventually. But, for now, I have the beginning of the next scene(minus the first 3 sentences because I couldn’t make it all fit).

“You can pull off up here,” I told him as Devil sat up beside me. “There’s a place we can take shelter until dark, then we’ll go back for our bikes. You should probably get back and open the store.”

Mr. Bentley shook his head. “I am not a fool, boy. If that was your father, and I’m not doubting you, I’ve known him longer than you have, he’ll be waiting for me to show up. He’ll wait for me to lead him to you, if that’s really what he’s wanting. I won’t do it. The shop can rot for all I care. You’re what’s important.”

The question is: was it really Hawk’s father? What do they both know about him that makes them so sure? Will they be safe for the moment at least?

And I got Chapter 7 of Dance with the Devil posted if you want to get caught up on that.

Fiction Friday: Dance with the Devil – Chapter 7

I’m back this week with another chapter of Dance with the Devil. Getting closer to the end. Here’s the beginning of Chapter 7.

I barely remembered the ride back to the clubhouse, but I did stay conscious, though I’m not sure how. My arms stayed clamped around Hawk’s waist, on his stomach. If I’d been more with it, I might have at least thought about sliding them a little lower.

I didn’t.

When we were in front of the garage, my hands slid away. Hawk grabbed them like he was afraid I would fall. Maybe I would have. I didn’t want everyone to see us sitting there like that.

I heard Bull and Icarus talking to Hawk, even though I couldn’t make out all their words.

“Gavin,” I groaned his name. He shivered against me. That had to be wrong.

“Relax,” Hawk told me. “No one cares, particularly right now. Hold on to me a little longer.”

The buzz of another voice sounded. Hands lifted me. I fought against it, an instinctive response from me. Another voice—Icarus?—said, “You’re fine. We’ve got you.” Then, the darkness finally swept over me.

***

The next time I woke up, I lay in a familiar bed. My bed in the clubhouse. I didn’t even remember them carrying me up here. Or into the house. The fact I was still here had to be a good sign.

Maybe they wouldn’t kick me out for yet another screw-up. I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t move my left arm. I nearly panicked but a hand rested on my other shoulder. “Relax,” Hawk said.

I wet my lips before looking at him. I could just make out his outline in the darkness. He leaned in toward me. “What happened?” I croaked.

“I hoped you could tell me. I told the board what I could, but it wasn’t much.”

I groaned, but it wasn’t from the pain I was in. Hawk must have taken it that way, because he pushed back from the bed. “I’ll get Medusa. Let her know you’re awake.”

I reached out for him with my right arm. “No. I’m fine. What happened in the meeting? Am I out?”

I saw the hesitation in his eyes, and I hated it. “They haven’t made a decision yet,” he finally said. “They wanted to talk to you before they do.”

“What do you mean ‘they’?” I asked, catching how he kept saying that. “You’re part of the board, too.”

“They all know what my decision will be. No matter what you did or didn’t do, it would be the same. I offered to sit it out, knowing I can’t be unbiased.”

“The good of the club, right?”

Hawk stared at me for a moment then shook his head. “Sometimes you can be such an idiot, Damon. I’ll go get Medusa.”

I stared after him as he left the room. What the hell had that meant? Did he think I was stupid? No, that couldn’t be. Whenever I said something along those lines, he lectured me. He wouldn’t be saying it to me now.

But, he had, hadn’t he?

And if you want to read the rest of the chapter, you can find it here.

WeWriWa: ‘Enough to Kill’

Welcome back to another visit with the Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop for anyone who likes to write. I’m back this week with another snippet from Hawk’s story. Last week, we left Hawk and Devil in possible danger, and trying to decide how to get out of it. This picks up immediately after last week’s and is the last 10 sentences of the scene(with a few punctuation adjustments to get it to fit).

“Did I ever tell you he was trained as a sniper?”

“No.”

“Well, he didn’t always take jobs that were…authorized. Why not take one that would get rid of the son he’s always hated?”

Now, it was Damon who squeezed my arm. I glanced around as we came out of the garage, but I didn’t see anything, so, we got in the back seat of the truck. In a way, I hoped I was right about my father, otherwise that meant there was someone else out there who hated me enough to kill me.

Damon’s hand pressed against my hip, and I realized it didn’t matter who it was. As long as he only came after me and not anyone else I cared about, especially not Damon.

Losing him might be enough to kill me anyway.

So is it Hawk’s father? Why does he hate Hawk so much? Will they get away without more trouble? I’ll have more for you next week.

And I have Chapter 6 of Dance with the Devil up, if you want to check that out.

Fiction Friday: Dance with the Devil – Chapter 6

I’m here with the next chapter of Dance with the Devil. Going into the second half now. Here’s the first part of this chapter.

I slammed my fist into the punching bag in the basement of the clubhouse. No one else was down here so late at night. Which was about the only time I visited the little gym. When I couldn’t sleep, when things I’ve seen wouldn’t stop haunting me. When I couldn’t stop thinking about Hawk.

I kept punching the heavy bag even as sweat dripped into my eyes, adding in a few kicks between some of the punches. The bag stopped its slight swing, and I brought my arm up to wipe the sweat away from my eyes.

Hawk stood on the other side of the bag. He wore a pair of sweats hanging low on his waist. Nothing covered his chest. Which left his tattoo- a large depiction of the eagle, globe, and anchor – standing out. I wanted to reach out and touch him, so I clenched my fists inside the boxing gloves. Sweat beaded on his face, but his skin looked cold. Like he’d just come inside.

Knowing him, he’d probably been out running, despite the dropping temperatures. That never bothered him.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his breath puffing out.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Could feel a storm rolling in. Cut my run short, and figured I’d finish it out in here. Your turn.”

I shifted away. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Again? You’ve barely slept this whole last week, Damon. What’s going on?”

Yeah. Ever since we put Brad in that stupid apartment. I don’t know why that triggered the insomnia. I hadn’t suffered from it much in the last few months. Someone would probably say I had PTSD from my time being deployed. The insomnia went back farther than that. It cropped up whenever Dad was being particularly harsh with me. Most people when they get depressed tend to sleep more.

Apparently, I’m the opposite.

Not, that I would admit that to Hawk. It would only make him worry more. That was the last thing I wanted. “It’s nothing,” I insisted. “It’s not like…before.” He’d know what I meant without having to say it. “I just can’t sleep.”

I wouldn’t look back up at him as I started past, so I didn’t know if he believed me or not. He grabbed my shoulder before I got by him. I stopped but kept my gaze between our feet. “Damon,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Please look at me.”

I knew why. It wasn’t the same reason as in the old barn. He wanted to see, make sure for himself I told the truth. The problem was, I wasn’t. Not completely at least. It wasn’t the same as before. I wasn’t staying up mulling over ways I could end my life. That stopped sometime after I got out of my father’s house. I couldn’t say none of that depression had come back.

“Damon.”

Where will this moment take them? Read on here to find out. I’ll have the next chapter up in a week.

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