Page 13 of Cruel Debts (Killers of Port Wylde #4)
ELEVEN
HAWKE
I wasn’t sure whether to be irritated by all the questions or amused that she seemed to lose her earlier hesitancy when alone with us. It would be a shitty existence for the time being if we had to walk on eggshells around her.
I wondered what kind of people her brother and his friends were to have molded her into such a feisty person. I mean, I didn’t give a shit, but it was funny.
She kind of reminded me of someone I used to know.
When I pulled into our parking spot and shut the car off, I saw Asher reach for her bag as Liam escaped the car with a quickness. What surprised me was that he stopped to open her door for her, his earlier ire mellowed out to just a hint of irritation.
“Come on, then, little girl. We’ve arrived at your new kennel.”
She stared at the hand he held out and brushed it off, stepping out into the early morning air with a sigh.
We were supposed to report to St. Clair for a debrief, but I’d called her on the ride over to tell her we’d put it off until later, since we still had to clear out the room and get this shit settled.
She stayed silent and broody the whole way up the elevator ride to the main floor of the asylum, but the second we stepped out into the commons, about ten sets of eyes turned to us, and we got the kind of attention I had been hoping to avoid.
The Skeleton Crew and the Neon Dogs were standing around in a circle, the two groups very close to exchanging blows if their shouting was any indication.
On one side, you had Hyena, the new leader of the Dogs, watching as her three men struggled to keep their composure.
On the other side stood Harper, leading lady of the Blackwood trio, her hands pressed against Ghoul’s chest as she struggled to keep him calm—and far away from Jackal.
They hated each other. Well, not always, but on a bad day, they were fire and gasoline.
Behind the two groups stood St. Clair and her head of security, Thomas, Thompson, whatever. They didn’t look too concerned about the argument devolving into a physical fight, choosing instead to simply observe and smile like they knew a secret the rest of us didn’t.
The sound of the elevator drew the attention away from the disagreement, whatever it was, and the shouts, insults, and swearing came to a screeching halt.
And now, they were all looking at us.
Liam plowed through the middle of them, his attitude serving him well as they made a path out of respect. Being the oldest, most senior crew in the joint gave us operating freedom that the others didn’t have. And when you had a reputation like the Gunners did, people tended not to fuck with you.
Even the crazies in this place.
Asher shook his head at the scene and skirted outside the circle, the bag still slung over his shoulder, leaving me with the girl. And everyone in the room, of course.
Just my fucking luck.
Jackal was the first to speak up, his eyes landing on the girl. The predatory way he sized her up left me with a sour taste in my mouth.
“A normie?” He turned to St. Clair, who also eyed the girl carefully. “Thought we were all subject to the rules around here?”
Lilly stared at him like he’d lost his damn mind.
“Not that long ago, you brought a normie in yourself, lied about it, and then made her your leader, Jackal.” Her eyes narrowed again, and she turned to the Blackwood crew, jerking her thumb at Harper, who still held the scarred fucker back with all her strength.
“And they’re guilty of hiding one right under our noses, too.
” She turned to me with a smile, and I realized she was waiting for me to play along.
“I suppose it’s time to revisit the rules, since everyone around here breaks them regardless of the consequences. ”
I raised my left hand, sliding my right one onto the girl’s shoulder to guide her through the fray. “I just work here,” I said sarcastically as I marched her right through the center of this little pissing contest. “Please, don’t stop on my account. I was just leaving.”
I could hear the argument pick back up the second we started up the stairs, thankful the attention had turned elsewhere.
But it was only a matter of time before the assholes in this place started sniffing around. And when that happened, the girl wouldn’t be safe anymore.
I wasn’t looking forward to that day.
“So, this is, uh, this is the place,” I deadpanned, spreading my arms like fucking Vana White on Wheel of Fortune to show off the damn apartment. “Looks like the other two are already clearing out the room you’ll be using.”
I turned in her direction, ready to give her a tour against my better judgment, but she was miles away, already making a beeline for the kitchen. She paid me no mind as she ran her hands along the concrete countertop, eyeing the spartan design of the place with curiosity.
Maybe she thought it didn’t fit our vibes. Who knew what was going on in her empty head? But I marched over, grabbing her by the arm before she could start opening cabinets and making herself at home.
“Hey, girl—I was talking to you.” My grip was firm but loose, and she could have shaken it if she wanted to. Instead, she let me hold onto her, staring me down like she fully intended to intimidate me into submission.
Joke was on her—I’d been practicing intimidation resistance since I was fucking born. She couldn’t scare me if she had a damned gun to my head and a wicked chill grin on her lips. I was unshakeable.
“I know,” she said nonchalantly, shrugging absently as her eyes returned to roaming the open rooms. “So you have your own kitchen and living room. Why ever leave this place and use the common areas?”
“They’ve got a nicer kitchen,” I pointed out, as if it needed explaining. “Why not?”
“Those other two girls—are there more women here?”
Liam sauntered into the kitchen, mask still on his face, to retrieve a water bottle from the fridge. “I wouldn’t call them women, per se,” he pointed out. “The one is borderline feral. And the other one is dating her stepbrothers. So maybe not the best of role models to live by.”
“Are they the only two here?” Her head tilted to the side like some cute fucking cocker spaniel. Almost made me wanna pet her head.
Almost.
“Unless you count the head honcho, St. Clair, then yes, that’s it.”
I watched Liam tip the bottle and his head back, draining it in one go. A few drops followed the line of his throat and disappeared into the collar of his shirt. The irritation on his face when it soaked the fabric was priceless.
“Hawke, you finally joined the rest of us, I see,” Asher said from the other room, his voice getting louder as he popped out of the bedroom. At the same time, Liam gave up on his shirt and yanked it over his head, dislodging his mask in the process.
Liam faced the sink, staring out the window at the slowly rising sun. “You got a name, girl? Or should we just keep referring to you as bitch?”
“Try it and I’ll rock your shit, buddy,” she snapped, her eyes glued to Asher, who had apparently decided to ditch his mask in the process of cleaning.
I knew we hadn’t discussed wearing them while this chick was around, but realistically, I couldn’t imagine we could live for an undetermined amount of time with masks on 24/7.
“Yo, bitch, you still with us?” Liam waved his hand in front of her eyes, still covered by sunglasses, but she made no indication she even noticed. Her jaw hung slightly open, her eyes still glued to Asher as he moved into the room. “Asher, I think you broke her with your ugly ass face.”
“Funny,” Asher growled, bending down to look the girl in the face. “Can you even see with those things on?”
“Maybe she’s blind,” I joked, taking my neck gaiter down as I shoved my goggles up on my head.
Those fuckers were hot. “Let’s get the introductions out of the way.
He’s Asher, also known as ,” I said, pointing at the man before her.
“This is Liam, the Sentry.” My thumb jerked in the direction of the asshole at the sink, whose attention had turned to the girl.
“I’m Hawke, but most people around here call me Ghost.”
I waited for her to introduce herself, but nothing came out. It was like she’d turned to stone. Maybe she’d seen Asher and he’d turned her into a statue like Medusa.
“And you are?”
Nothing.
I reached out and yanked her sunglasses off her face, and suddenly, she wasn’t the only fucking statue in the place.
“No.” Asher.
“Oh, fuck this shit.” Liam that time, his eyeballs bigger than a fucking dinner plate.
Standing there staring back at us, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head, a faint blush creeping up her throat, was none other than Trinity motherfucking McCoy, the same girl we’d promised to protect. The girl Liam was looking for.
A whole lot of trouble in a fucking handbasket.
And boy, had she grown up since the last time we saw her.