Welcome back to another visit with the Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop for anyone who likes to write, where we share 8-10 sentences from a project and sometimes get creative with punctuation. 😉 I’m continuing with Hawk’s story. Only skipping a bit ahead into the next scene. Devil is back and not letting Hawk get away with trying to push him away.
“How was Mr. Bentley?”
“Perfectly fine, as I’m sure you knew he’d be. That’s not why you sent me there. Are you going to deny it?”
I would have turned my head away, but I didn’t even have the energy for that, so I only closed my eyes.
“Damn it, Gavin. If I’d done that, you’d tell me I was being stupid for trying to isolate myself. How does it being you doing it make it any different?”
I couldn’t answer that; I knew he had a point, but I couldn’t think about it right now. I just wanted him to be safe, and there was no way he could be if he stayed at my side.
Is Hawk right? Will being at his side be dangerous? Or maybe keep him safe?
Welcome back to another visit with the Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop for anyone who likes to write. I got to go out on the motorcycle for the first time last night. Every other time we planned to, something came up or it was raining. My mother-in-law had the kids, so we took it to dinner then took the long way back home. It felt really nice. And speaking of motorcycles, it’s time to share a bit more of Hawk’s story. I’m skipping a little bit ahead. They’re back at the clubhouse, and Medusa has been checking over Hawk and has just reminded him it will be a while before he can ride again.
“Don’t sound so enthusiastic. You know all the old ladies have a soft spot for you. They’ll be fawning all over you. You know you’ll enjoy it.”
I snorted and wished I hadn’t. I pressed my hand against my side. “You know as well as anyone it’s not the old ladies I want fawning over me.”
There was a deep laugh from the doorway, and I turned my head to see Wraith coming into the room. “Pretty sure there’s only one guy in this club that has the desire to fawn over you in the way you want.”
If you’re wondering, that one guy would be Devil. Though Devil is a bit upset with Hawk for sending him away the way he did, I don’t think he’ll have any problem tending to him. 😉
Welcome back to another visit with the Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop for anyone who likes to write. I’ve gotten farther on Hawk’s story this week. And I’m skipping just a little bit ahead in the next scene. I got rather creative with punctuation to make this fit.
I’d sent him off; yes, I wanted to be sure Mr. Bentley was still safe, but that wasn’t the reason I’d done it. He was better off away from me; all of them were, but I knew I couldn’t see that happen until I could move around on my own.
Which meant I couldn’t do anything that would keep me from healing up faster. The Riders had always been there for me when even my own family wouldn’t have cared. I’d tried to reach out to my little step-brother once, through Mr. Bentley, but I’d never got a response from him, so I could only figure my father had poisoned his mind. Maybe it was just as well; I didn’t want to know how he’d turned out living in that house.
I wasn’t sure I could live with it.
He’d been a sweet boy, but that would only make him more vulnerable to a man like my father; easily twisted and molded into what he’d want from a son. That had obviously never been me. I knew that was a good thing, that I was a better person to not fit his image, but it was what I’d longed for during most of my childhood, until I learned how vile he was.
Was his little brother twisted by his father? Or might there be something else going on? And did Hawk make a big mistake by sending Devil away? Just wait and see 😀
Welcome back to another visit with the Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop for anyone who likes to write. I’m continuing with Hawk’s story this week. Picking up almost right after last week’s. I got a bit creative with punctuation to fit the rest of the scene in.
“Go on to Mr. Bentley,” I told him, “I want to be sure he’s okay. That man’s already used him to get at me once, I want to be sure he hasn’t again.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” Damon said.
I didn’t really want him to, either, but I thought it might be for the best. He was likely to get killed just for being close to me; they all might, and that was something I couldn’t live with.
“Go,” I said again, “I’ll see you back at the clubhouse.”
Damon’s eyes were dark as he looked at me, but finally he pulled back and gave me a short nod before slapping his helmet on and throwing a leg over his bike.
“Shit,” I muttered as he roared away and the truck came to a stop beside us. Damon had certainly seen right through what I’d claimed.
I doubted he’d let me get away with it for long.
What will Damon find? Will he let Hawk get away with pushing him away? Will they all make it back to the clubhouse?
Welcome back to another visit with the Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop for anyone who likes to write. I’ve got more of Hawk’s story here, picking up right where we left off last week.
“I was kind of hoping you could tell me that,” Wraith said. “Has your father ever worked with a partner?”
“Not that I’m aware of, and it still wouldn’t make any sense as to why they would want to save me, since that would mean they wouldn’t get the money for finishing the contract.”
“You’re right,” Wraith said, still studying the helmet. “It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but of course, I’m very grateful for it.”
So was I, and something kept niggling at the back of my mind. If my head wasn’t throbbing so much, I might have even been able to bring it forward, but it was too much effort, so I let it go. I could feel Damon’s hand on my arm still, and I glanced over at him.
Is there a partner? Or is there some other explanation? What’s going to happen next?
Welcome back to another visit with the Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop for anyone who likes to write. I’ve got the next part of Hawk’s story for you this week. This picks up immediately after last week’s.
“Not that,” Wraith said. “This one would have killed you,” he said, tapping on the deep groove in his helmet, “if you hadn’t already been knocked off course. This is the one that likely saved your life.” He turned the helmet a quarter of the way, so he could see the tiny hole marking it.
“What the hell is that?”
“Doesn’t look like it was made by much more than a pellet. Though he would have had to be closer than what I saw. And it was from a different angle than this other one.”
“Who the hell would have shot a pellet gun, if that’s what it was, at me? And why?”
Those are some good questions, Hawk. Just what is happening? Does he have two people trying to kill him, or is there another explanation?
Welcome back to another visit with the Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop for anyone who likes to write. We were supposed to go on a motorcycle ride today, but it’s raining and storming. So, yeah, we’re not going out. But, I still have the next part of Hawk’s story for you. This picks up right after last week’s.
“I figured that much. Where’d the bullet come from? Did you see?”
“I saw the glint off a barrel. That’s when I told you two to get down. If you hadn’t, you’d be dead. The bullet just clipped your helmet pretty much, then there’s this.”
He was holding something out to me, but it took me a moment to bring it into focus, my helmet. “Yeah, I get it. If I hadn’t had the helmet on, I wouldn’t have even felt the crash, but I always wear it, so what’s your point?”
What is Wraith’s point? What did happen? I’ll have more of this next weekend.