Craving Hawk
The Aces’ Sons
By Nicole Jacquelyn
Craving Hawk
Copyright © 2016 by Nicole Jacquelyn
Kindle Edition
All Rights Reserved
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Dedication
For my family,
who barely saw me while I was writing this book.
I love you.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Heather
Some days it felt like high school was slowly sucking away any individuality I’d managed to hold on to for the past sixteen years.
At least I still looked like me. Half of my head was shaved to the scalp and the other half was lime green. Before that it had been powder blue. Before that—platinum. I could never decide on a color I liked, and why should I have to? There were millions of colors in the beauty supply store just waiting to be opened. I wore what I wanted, applied makeup the way I liked, and generally didn’t give a fuck.
But lately… well, I’d begun to think that fitting in would make things easier.
“Hey, Heather?” a voice called from behind me as I stuffed my bag into my locker. “Your name’s Heather, right?”
I turned toward the voice and found a kid from my class, who knew my name was Heather.
“What’s up, Silas?” I asked with a small smile, highlighting that I knew his name.
“I was wondering if you want to go out sometime?” He said it so confidently that I had to lock my jaw to keep it from falling open in surprise.
“Go out with you?” I asked suspiciously. “Go where?”
“I don’t know. To a movie or something,” he replied. His voice had lost the almost cocky tone, changing to nervous.
“You want to take me to a movie?” I replied slowly.
“Yeah, and then maybe…” a sly smile spread across his face just before his tongue pressed hard against the side of his cheek, giving the impression of a blowjob.
“Oh, fuck you, limp dick,” I snapped. I jerked my arm back in preparation to hit him in his laughing face, but before I could swing broad shoulders were blocking him completely from my view.
“Get the hell outta here, Silass,” my favorite person in the world ordered, the muscles in his broad back flexing as he pushed Silas down the hallway. “You want a blowjob you’re gonna have to find your tiny dick first.”
I dropped my arm down to my side and spread my fingers. They’d been clenched so tight they felt almost cramped. I shook my head as Mick turned back toward me, still scowling.
It wasn’t the first time a guy had propositioned me in the hallway at school. Shit, it wasn’t even the fifth time. I wasn’t sure why they’d singled me out, but I knew it was super fucking creepy. I’d turned every single date down. Every single sexual favor they’d wanted. And yet, they still kept coming to ask, like at some point my answer would be different.
“Thanks,” I mumbled as Michael Hawthorne threw his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in close to his side as he walked confidently down the middle of the hallway.
Mick and his older brother and cousins were practically untouchable at our school. They weren’t super popular or anything like that… but there was just something that set them apart. They were cool. Way cooler than anyone else. And because they were so cool—and in the boys’ case a little scary—no one messed with them.
“Did you finish that English homework?” I asked as Mick led me around a group of people clustered on one side of the hall. “You know it’s worth like fifteen percent of your grade, right?”
“I got it covered,” he answered, squeezing my shoulder. “Why are you always up in my shit about school?”
“Because I’m your tutor.”
“Nah, we’re friends.”
“I’m also your tutor.”
“You’re a friend that occasionally helps me with my homework.”
“See also, tutor.”
“You wanna hang out after school?” Mick asked, changing the subject as we stopped just outside my next class.
“Oh, not you, too,” I joked. I laughed a little until I met Mick’s unsmiling eyes.
“Don’t lump me in with them,” he ordered, his arm dropping away from my shoulders. “That’s bullshit.”
“Mick,” I murmured, embarrassed. “It was a joke.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
I felt my cheeks heat as he stared at me. Mick was two years younger than me, and if that wasn’t enough… I knew he wasn’t into me. It was clear in every interaction we had. I’d given him every opportunity to make a move, but he hadn’t. He’d kept things strictly platonic, never once treating me like more than a buddy.
“I’ll see you later,” I said quickly, turning on my heel.
“Heather,” Mick called in frustration, making me stop just inside the door. “We’re cool, right?”
“We’re fine,” I replied, waving over my shoulder as I moved farther into the room.
He was one of my best friends, and by far the goofiest, kindest, and most protective guy I’d ever met. I wasn’t going to ruin our friendship by trying to make it something it wasn’t.
After that interaction, I never made another joke about us dating. It wouldn’t be until later that year that I’d understand why Mick wasn’t into me. I’d find out purely by accident, and I’d never say a word.
Chapter 1
Heather
“The fuck are you doing?”
I opened my eyes and turned my head, looking up at the dark shadow blocking out the night sky. It was big and looming over me threateningly. I closed my eyes again.
“I’m enjoying this little piece of freedom,” I murmured, running my arms and legs through the grass like I was making a snow angel. “Grass against my skin, stars above me, I can almost pretend I’m in the field behind my apartment building.”
“Christ,” the shadow muttered. I heard the flick of a
lighter, then got a whiff of the first puff of his cigarette. “You do this shit behind those apartments you live in? Just waitin’ around for some junkie to come lookin’ for some cash or pussy?”
“That’s a poor view of the world around you,” I replied, opening my eyes again. “I’ve never been approached by a junkie, thank you very much.”
“Only takes once. What are you gonna do? Fight ’em off with those claws you got?”
“What’s wrong with my fingernails?” I snapped, sitting straight up.
“Nothin’ if you’re plannin’ on diggin’ up a corpse or some shit. How do you even get yourself off without needin’ stitches?”
My jaw dropped open and it took me a minute to even formulate a reply, which then pissed me off more than his question had. “I’m seeing someone,” I snapped back. “He gets me off.”
“Brave fucker. Wouldn’t let those hands anywhere near my dick.” His words were so derisive, so disgusted, that I didn’t even think before swinging the back of my hand directly at the front of his jeans. Bulls-eye. For a fraction of a second, my mind registered how big he was even though he wasn’t even remotely hard, then I closed down that train of thought.
He dropped to his knees as soon as my hand made contact, and his cigarette got lost in the grass as both hands went down to protect his junk from further attack. I felt triumphant as I waited for him to groan or whine or make some sort of noise, but he didn’t. He just sucked in a quick breath, let it out from his nose, and slowly dropped his hands to his sides.
The minute his eyes met mine, I knew I’d fucked up big time.
“I’ve never hit a woman,” he ground out. “But if I was goin’ to, that’d be the fuckin’ reason.”
I scrambled backward across the field until I was sure he couldn’t leap out and grab me, then climbed silently to my feet, never taking my eyes off of his face. “That’s the only time my hand will be anywhere near your penis.” I tried to say it confidently, but the words came out warbly. His dark brown eyes were almost impossible to see in the darkness, but I could feel his stare.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, climbing gracefully to his feet again as he adjusted the front of his jeans. I forced myself to keep my eyes on his face and not on the motion of his hand. “Didn’t want in there when we were in school, didn’t plan on getting in there now.”
“Like I would have ever let you,” I hissed, backing away from him. I wasn’t sure how big his balls were, but they must have been massive to say something so ridiculous with absolutely no hesitation.
“Nah, you liked Micky, yeah? Loved that kid.” He tilted his head to the side like he was trying to figure me out.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I shot back, fisting my hands.
“I saw all that shit.”
“No, you didn’t. I never had a thing for Michael. He was too young for me, he—” my eyelid began to twitch. I wanted so badly to punch him in the face. My relationship with Mick was none of his fucking business. It had never been his business. It would never be his business. My memories were just that—mine.
“You dug him. Everyone saw it. Everyone said shit,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken.
“I-I,” the words were caught in my throat as I thought about the boy who’d seen me for who I actually was. He’d seen past the mohawk and the neon blue lipstick. In a school that had a defined set of beauty standards, Mick had been one of the only boys who’d looked at me like I was something special. Not a fetish. Not a chance at freaky sex—because of course the girl with the mohawk wanted crazy sex. “We were friends. I tutored him,” I said stubbornly, taking another step back.
“You never woulda had him,” he murmured back, stepping toward me. “He wasn’t into you.”
“Fuck you,” I whispered, a lump forming in the back of my throat.
“Liked you, sure.”
“Shut up,” I muttered.
“Thought you were cool, thought you were smart, thought you were funny.”
“Shut up.”
“Wasn’t attracted to ya though.”
“Shut the fuck up!” I yelled, my voice cracking.
“You think I didn’t know my little brother? You think I didn’t know him?” he asked quietly, his eyes narrowing into slits.
I froze, my heart thumping so hard I could hear it in my ears. I was so shocked I didn’t move as he took a few steps forward and was suddenly just inches from my face. “You get a free pass this time,” he said after a moment, like he was doing me some sort of favor.
I swallowed hard as his hands came up, his fingers brushing along the sides of my face until they’d tunneled into the hair by my ears, and he was cupping my head in his long hands. He tilted my head back as the rest of my body stiffened and leaned his face until our noses were almost touching.
“You get one free pass,” he whispered again, his breath tickling my face. “You had that one shot and you took it. You don’t get another one.” His nose slid against mine, and I couldn’t help the way my eyes grew heavy. My body was still stiff and unmoving, but every sense was heightened by his presence. I noticed everything—the cologne he was wearing, the gentle way his fingers wrapped around my skull, the way his chest rose and fell with every breath, his wide lips moving so close to mine. He was gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous. And he didn’t care. His shirts were always dirty and the mop of hair on the top of his head was always a mess. His clothes usually looked like they’d been slept in and, when he wasn’t outside or working, he sometimes wore the ugliest reading glasses I’d ever seen.
It didn’t matter. He was still…mesmerizing.
And such an asshole.
And I had a guy waiting for me whenever I escaped from this place.
“Tommy,” I warned, pulling a little against his hands. “Let go.”
“You know why you get that free pass, don’t you?” he whispered against my mouth.
I knew. Of course I knew. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. I didn’t keep secrets for him.
He tilted my head back even farther, and I automatically grasped his sides to keep my balance. As the fingernails he’d bitched about scratched against the leather cut he was wearing, his jaw tightened and his hands fisted in my hair.
“Thomas, what the fuck?” The loud incredulous voice coming from the back of the clubhouse made me jump almost a foot in the air. “Fire!”
Tommy’s hands fell from my head as he spun around, and we both watched in horror as fire spread through the dry grass sickeningly fast.
“Fuck!” Tommy yelled, running back toward the clubhouse as I stood there stupidly. The fire was spreading like crazy in almost every direction, lighting up the grass in small waves.
“I’m gonna beat your ass!” Tommy’s older brother Will yelled as they both came running toward me with garden hoses.
“And what the fuck are you doin’?” he asked me as they started spraying water. “Get inside, idiot!”
I stumbled backward as more men came pouring out of the back of the club carrying five gallon buckets full of water like they weighed nothing.
“Girl, you better get outta the way,” an older man warned me as he rushed past. “These boys’ll run your ass over.”
I nodded and shuffled to the side until I was out of the way of their little water brigade. The way they moved, like each one knew what the other was going to do before they did it, was impressive, but it still took them a full twenty minutes to get the fire out. By the time they’d turned off the hoses and were standing around with their hands on their hips, most of the women from inside the club had come out to see what the hell was happening and how they could help.
The crowd went silent as Tommy’s dad, Grease, moved toward him, reached him, and lifted him off his feet, hands fisted in the front of his shirt.
“What the fuck were you thinkin’?” he bellowed.
I flinched at the sound, but Tommy didn’t move. “Dropped my cigarette,” he answered roughly, hol
ding his dad’s gaze.
“You dropped your motherfuckin’ cigarette?” Grease yelled, shaking Tommy. “We got buckets of water all over the place, and you dropped your cigarette in the dry grass?”
“Yep.” Tommy’s bored, one word answer seemed to enrage his dad, and Grease dropped him back to his feet, then cuffed Tommy’s ear, making him stagger to the side. The sight made everything inside me tighten.
“I hit him in the balls,” I yelled absurdly, capturing everyone’s attention.
“It’s none of your business,” my sister hissed, hurrying toward me.
I brushed her off as she reached me and took a step away from the side of the clubhouse where I’d been practically hiding.
“I hit him in the nuts,” I said louder, making a couple people laugh. “He accidentally dropped it when he tried to, you know, cover himself.”
“Jesus,” my sister’s boyfriend, Rocky, muttered, shaking his head.
“Why do they always go for the balls?” someone murmured.
“You see that bitch’s fingers? Circumcision by fingernail,” someone else said.
The crowd snickered and my cheeks burned in mortification.
“What did my son do to make you hit him in the balls?” Tommy’s mom, Callie, asked calmly over the laughter. It was the first time she’d spoken to me since I’d arrived at the clubhouse, and my throat got tight as she moved, slowly but confidently, through the crowd toward her son.
“Nothing,” I lied, looking over at Tommy. He was watching me with zero expression on his face. I dropped my gaze. “He just—it was nothing.”
“It obviously wasn’t nothing,” she replied, stopping next to her husband.
“He was being an ass.”
“Now, that I can believe,” Callie muttered, shooting a look at her son. She leaned up and said something quietly to her husband, then kissed him on the cheek. I had no idea what she’d said, but his shoulders relaxed as Callie walked away, not stopping or slowing down until she was back inside the building.