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“Miss Santiago,” Devereaux sighs. “The politics in a motorcycle club are complicated and a lot more than what meets the eye.”
“I know there’s a hierarchy, if that’s what you’re referring to.” I’ve never drooled over the bikers coming to the strip club, so I never learned about how they run their clubs. I know that Lala was really into it. She kept on saying that she would be Puck’s ol’ lady one day, whatever that means. It sounded like their version of a wife.
“Loyalty means everything to them,” Devereaux continues. “Hawk being sent to work on this mission signified that he’d already proven himself to the club. His president trusted him to see it through. Hawk was prepared to do anything in his power to help his club. A lot was at stake.”
I get an instant lump in the back of my throat, and my mouth goes dry. I know exactly what Hawk did to get his mission accomplished, and ninety percent of it included him using my body as he saw fit.
“Fortunately, you were very cooperative, Miss Santiago. And I know a lot of it had to do with Hawk himself.”
I blush to the roots of my hair. He knows what went down. I’ve never felt embarrassed about my profession until this very second.
“Once the mission progressed to the next level, Hawk was given one clear directive by his president.”
Devereaux stops talking. He stares at me for the longest time, like he is waiting for me to connect imaginary dots.
“What was his directive?” I finally ask in a raspy voice when I can’t take the tension anymore. My anxiety is through the roof at this point.
“It was time for Hawk to wrap up the first leg of the mission. That included eliminating any witnesses who might become an issue at a later date.”
His eyes or face show no emotion when he stares me down like that, and I finally understand. I was one of those witnesses.
“Hawk was supposed to kill me,” I whisper, and he nods in confirmation.
This is what his president implied when he found us at the home where Mary lives. And it’s also what Hawk himself told me in not so many words.
“Why didn’t he?”
Devereaux shrugs. “It is obvious that he felt something toward you. What that was, it is hard tell. But he did care enough to get you out of there. Unfortunately, he was on a tight schedule, and he didn’t have time to do more other than take you to the facility where his mother lived. Mary taking an instant liking to you did not hurt at all.”
I drop my face in my hands and start crying again. I can’t help it. I feel defeated in a way I’ve never felt before. The fact that I know I’ll never see Mary again only adds to my heartbreak.
“I needed Hawk to come back to Austin,” Devereaux explains without actually giving me any details. “Things were moving at a faster pace than previously anticipated, and there was no time to waste.”
I lift my head from my hands to stare at him. “Why are you telling me all this?”
He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, a hint of a smile lifting the corner of his lips.
“Because in order to move forward, you need to look back for a bit.”
“I don’t understand this or you at all.” I shake my head, sniffing. I should probably blow my nose too, but other than my clothes, I don’t have anything handy.
“The president of the Savages MC finding you in Mary’s room hurt Hawk’s chances of explaining things himself.”
I lean back against the couch and allow myself five seconds of enjoying its softness. I wish I could rest my head and close my eyes, take a quick nap before life slaps me in the face once again.
“In that instant, Hawk became a traitor in the club’s eyes.”
Devereaux’s voice floats to me from somewhere in the room. I hear him, but I have a hard time processing everything.
“When he didn’t follow his president’s directive, he not only broke that trust but also the trust of the club and all its members.”
“It’s sounds more like a cult, if you ask me.” My voice sounds nasally and congested from all the crying.
“It is in a lot of ways,” Devereaux agrees with me. “When they join the club, their lives do not belong to them anymore. Any big change has to be made collectively, the club has to vote on it. They prefer unanimous voting.”
He continues talking, telling me all the ins and outs of being a member of a motorcycle club. I don’t really care. Why would I? The only biker I’ve ever been close to is no longer in my life. The thought brings a fresh wave of tears to my eyes.
“The most important thing to them all is loyalty.”
