Hawk (Black Hearts MC - Book 4), page 1
HAWK
BLACK HEARTS MC | BOOK FOUR
L G CAMPBELL
Copyright © 2024 L G Campbell
All rights reserved.
Written in English UK
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the Author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the Author.
Cover designer Robert Campbell
Edited by Jessica James
Proofread by Phoenix Book Designs
Formatted by Phoenix Book Designs
CONTENTS
Note to Reader
Black Hearts MC
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
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Chapter One of Hidden Truths
About the Author
Also By L.G. Campbell
NOTE TO READER
As you are about to delve into Hawk’s story, here come some warnings. Mentions of child abuse, some explicit violence, death, (don’t panic, I didn’t pull a Hidden Truths on you,) bad language, inappropriate humour, innuendos and sex.
BLACK HEARTS MC
We are deemed soulless men with hearts so dark we cannot be saved. We don’t want to be saved; the darkness is our fuel, igniting our fire for vengeance. We are a brotherhood, you fuck with one of us, you fuck with us all. Riding side by side with the devil, we live by our own rules. Owning the buildings, the streets, the entire fucking town.
We are untouchable, we are savage, we are the mother fucking Black Hearts MC
PROLOGUE
HAWK
“Oh Father, we look forward to your mass every week. It’s enlightening,” Mrs. Bishop praises. “And what you are doing for these boys is beyond God’s work, beyond your calling. I believe that God will have a special place for you when your time comes.” She beams, looking at me and my brothers.
My brothers and I all exchange a look, a knowing look. “Do you think one day, we will be out of here?” I whisper to them.
Zach’s tortured gaze comes to mine. “Never. If we run, it will just be someone else. If we tell, no one will believe us. Even when we get older and leave, he will forever be in here,” he says, tapping the side of his head.
I look at my older brother, Daniel, noticing his pale skin and sunken eyes. He refuses to eat or speak, and I worry about him the most. Ever since James, his real brother died, he’s given up all fight. James escaped, and as he ran from Papa, who was chasing him, so scared and terrified, James ran right out in front of a truck. He died instantly. Sometimes I think he was lucky; a quick death, a form of escape from this place.
We came from an all boys orphanage, one that was brutal. You had to fight to get by. There where kids in there that had come from hell; they had endured a life so evil, so fucking toxic, that all they knew was that they had to fight to survive, even when the fight was no longer needed. You trust no one, because everyone is a possible threat.
Zach was a year older than me. He was a fighter. He fought everyone, even me. When I gave back as good as he got, I gained a little respect from him. You would think the three of us being adopted by a catholic priest, a raping child molester, catholic priest, that we’d look out for each other, that we’d protect one another, but we didn’t. Throughout our childhood, and the rest of our lives, we knew to always look out for number one, because to survive, you needed to take care of yourself. You start caring for others, you start looking out for anyone but yourself, that’s the day you become fucking vulnerable. I mean, that’s not to say we don’t have a bond, because my brothers and I, we do. We will share our food, we will share looks of understanding, but when it comes to dear old Papa Priest, it’s every fucking man for himself.
I’m 13 years old, skinny and scrappy. Zach, even though he’s a year older than me, is smaller. I think that’s why he picked him. He thought he would be an easy target, but he was wrong. Zach may be small, but he will be ready to fight anyone. He will kick, punch, and even bite if he has to. He’s like a rabid fucking dog. Although, it was funny one time when Papa and his fellow fucking pervs wanted a group session. Zach bit down on one of the dudes dicks, and in that sick and fucked up moment, I laughed. I laughed and laughed as I watched this old fat bastard scream and jump around while Zach bit down, locking his fucking jaw tight, refusing to let go. Zach got a fucking beating that day, and it was so bad, I thought they’d killed him. He still walks with a slight limp—I think they broke his leg, because it never healed properly—but even with that beating, even though he had an old guy’s dick forced in his mouth, he still says it was one of the best days of his life. Causing one of them pain, giving them some kind of retribution for what they do to us, for what they’ve done to others before us, it was everything. Sick cunts.
Daniel shivers next to me. I want to put my arm around him, tell him it will be alright, but I don’t. What’s the point? It won’t, and if I do that, it shows weakness. I will never show weakness in front of evil.
I watch as other kids smile happily with their parents as they wave their goodbyes, dressed in their Sunday best. “I’m going to get out of here,” I tell my brothers.
Zach tuts and shakes his head. “Where the fuck you going to go at 13?” he asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know, but you’ve seen the collection box, right? You’ve seen the amount of money that’s in there. It’s enough for me to get as far away from this place as I can.”
Zach nods. “Smart move, but it will only last you so long, and he will look for you. He will find you and drag you back to hell,” he warns.
I frown, looking at Zach. It’s like he’s scared; scared to leave, or scared of what might happen if he does. “Look, I know the rules. I know our way is to look out for ourselves, but if you want out, then let’s fucking do it. The three of us, we’ve got to try. There is no way I am taking this from him for the rest of my life,” I say quietly, looking over my shoulder to make sure Papa Priest isn’t listening.
Daniel’s eyes blink. “Yes,” he says softly.
I blanch, shocked to hear him speak. Even Zach looks surprised.
“See, even Danny has had enough. You want in, too?” I ask Zach.
At that moment, Papa Priest laughs loudly. Zach looks at him, anger and pure hatred pouring from his stare. He gives a sharp nod. “I’m in,” he grits through his teeth.
From that moment, we planned and decided to take small amounts from the collection box each week. We stuffed them in our mattresses, storing them there until the last night when we made our escape. Zach, I don’t know how, had managed to get some strong sleeping pills, so when Papa Priest requested his evening wine, we drugged the fuck out of him, and waited until he passed out. I made a run for the collection box and shoved it in my backpack, while Zach and Daniel stuffed their bags with money from the mattresses. We made it out, and we ran to the bus station to get on the overnight bus. After I bought the tickets, the woman gave us a look, a concerned look, but doesn’t question why three boys would be out in the middle of the night without an adult, travelling across the country alone. That is the good thing about late night buses. No one questions anyone because usually, it’s people running from something. Everyone from wanted criminals to husbands running away with the babysitter are on the overnight bus.
As the bus pulls away, I look at Zach and Daniel and smile wide. “We fucking did it.”
Zach doesn’t smile. He just gives me a brief nod, but Daniel, he looks up at me and for the first time, he smiles wide.
I learnt that day about brotherhood. How good it fucking felt to escape together, to be free together, but our brotherhood wasn’t destined to last. Zach and Daniel were plagued with demons that they just couldn’t escape.
CHAPTER ONE
HAWK
2 years ago
Each year on this day, I remove my cut and I go and toast a drink to my original brothers, the ones I started my journey with. It’s something I’ve done ever since I found out that they passed. Zach and Daniel, they were my adoptive brothers, and together, we survived hell. Together, we escaped it. Only the demons plagued them, so much that they could no longer stand it.
Walking into the same bar, the barman hands me my bottle of whiskey and glass with some ice. I slide the money to him before I take the bottle and glass, and head to the same table in the corner that I sit at each year. No one asks questions, no one approaches me, and that is just how I like it; to be left alone, to remember, to drown in the guilt I feel ever
Halfway through drinking, a woman’s voice breaks my thoughts. “Drinking like that can only mean one of two things; the woman you love has died, or you’ve done something so terrible, you drown your sorrows, unable to live with yourself.”
I turn around and see an attractive woman sitting to the left of me, with a bottle of vodka and a glass of ice. “You’re wrong on both counts. So, with what you’re drinking, I’m guessing a horrific past that continues to haunt you or you’ve lost everything,” I counter.
She shakes her head, smiling. “Neither. May I?” she asks, gesturing to the empty seat opposite me.
“By all means,” I offer. I’m intrigued by her story. This isn’t the sort of bar a woman like her would ever be seen in. In fact, this isn’t the sort of bar any woman would be seen in. She grabs her bottle and glass and takes a seat opposite me. Her crisp white blouse is undone, just enough to hint at a cleavage.
She clicks her fingers, snapping me out of my gaze. “If I thought you would be the type of guy to ogle at my tits, I wouldn’t have come and sat with you,” she states.
I lift my glass and smile. “Then darlin’, you are definitely sat at the wrong fucking table.”
“So, you use humour and sex as a defence mechanism,” she counters, sipping her drink.
I raise my brow. “Very observant. And you use your steely cold hard demeanour to what? Keep out the bad guys, or just anyone that breathes?” I smirk.
Her blue eyes flare. “Foster kid,” she states, pointing to her chest.
“Same.” I nod.
“Father killed my mother, then shot himself. I found their bodies when I was 11,” she counters, like it’s a point scoring game.
“In an orphanage, adopted by a paedophile priest. My brothers killed themselves,” I state, raising my brow.
She nods. “That is tragic.” She raises her glass and I clink mine with hers. “To tragic lives, horrific pasts, and lost loved ones,” she toasts.
I nod before downing my drink. “Now we’ve shared our pasts, are you going to give me your name?” I ask.
“Hallie,” she states. “Yours?”
“Hawk.”
Present day
Text: We need to meet. H
I await her reply, standing outside the club whilst smoking a cigarette. How the fuck did Rage know there was something between the detective and I? Fuck.
“You not coming in to celebrate the good news brother?” Spider asks, lighting his cigarette.
I nod. “Yeah, just waiting on a call,” I answer. Looking down at my cell, it says she’s seen it. She’s just not replying.
“Ah, a call from our friend, the detective.” Spider smirks.
My head snaps up. “What the fuck has Rage been saying?!” I snap.
Spider smiles. “Ah, so it’s fucking true, then.” He pauses. “Rage pulled Pres to one side and said that you’ve been fucking the detective. You’re lucky that Pres is in a good mood right now, and to be honest brother, she’s a bitch with a pretty fucking hot body underneath those boring beige detective clothes. We ain’t surprised you’ve been dipping your dick in that.” He shrugs.
I don’t know what to say, probably for the first time in my life. I open my mouth to speak, but I am cut off.
“Hawk! A fucking word,” Ghost yells from the doorway of the club.
Spider coughs a laugh. “Oh no, you’re in trouble with Mummy.” I chuck my cigarette on the floor and stamp it out with my booted foot. As I walk past Spider, I thump him fucking hard in the arm. “Fuck!” he laughs, rubbing his arm.
Ghost stands there waiting, his arms crossed, looking pissed. Well, he always looks pissed, but now that it is aimed at me, I can understand why people piss their pants. “Yo Pres, what’s up?” I smile.
He raises his brow. “What’s up? What’s fucking up? Are you kidding me? You forget to mention that you’ve been balls deep in the detective that has been after us, that has it out for us? Or even that we tried to make a deal with her just a few fucking hours ago. You got fucking amnesia? What’s the matter? You fucking forget where your loyalty lies, whenever you blow your load?!” he fumes. “Shit, how the fuck do I, or your brothers know, if you ain’t fucking double crossing us? She ask you shit? She suck you off and you give her fucking intel on the club?! What the fuck, brother?!” he roars furiously.
I turn my head to look at Spider. “I thought you said he was in a good fucking mood,” I mock.
Spider just laughs. I flip him off before turning my attention back round to Ghost. “No, and no, it’s not like that. Met her in a bar a couple of years ago, before she even made detective. I didn’t have my cut on, so she didn’t know who I was, and well, I couldn’t give a shit who she was. She was wearing this tight white dress, I’m talking no bra. Like no fucking underwear.” I groan. Ghost just continues to stare me down. “Anyway, I fucked her in the toilets, then I went back to hers, fucked her some more. Great fucking shag brother, really fucking top notch shit. Hell, she did shit that blew my fucking mind.” I sigh at the memory, getting a fucking semi just thinking about it. Ghost still looks unimpressed as he stands there waiting. “So yeah, that was that. We didn’t even exchange fucking names, brother. She wanted one night, and I wanted one night. Harmless innocence, just two people needing a release, and a good fucking night,” I explain.
“So, tell me, have you fucked her recently?” he snaps.
I run my hand through my hair. “Swear I didn’t know it was her until we got pulled over that day.”
“What is she, like 40?” Spider yells.
I shrug. “42, but fuck, that woman works out. I mean, she is fucking fit. Sure, she’s twelve years older than me. You know I never had a mother, so when a sexy as fuck Mrs. Robinson type comes on to you, you don’t turn that shit down.”
Ghost pinches the bridge of his nose. “I couldn’t give a shit if she was 25 or fucking 65. What I care about is the fact that she is the fucking law, and we are fucking outlaws. So, fucking tell me, you been fucking her recently, and what the fuck have you told her?!” he questions.
“Yeah, a few times, sorry brother, just couldn’t help it. The whole forbidden thing is sexy. She would book a room at a hotel, I would go there, spend the night, fuck her raw, then come back here,” I explain.
“So, what does she know?” he presses.
“Nothing. I don’t talk about the club. It’s a rule we made. She don’t tell me shit about her work, and I don’t tell her shit about the club. We meet, we fuck, that’s it. I mean, we have a laugh, we talk about shit, some personal shit, but nothing club related. Just my own personal shit,” I explain.
Ghost uncrosses his arms and places his hands on his hips before he looks up to the sky. “Fuck brother,” he sighs. “You’ve caused a world of shit right now. You will need to explain yourself in front of the brothers. They will need to hear this and they will need to be convinced.”
My eyes go wide. “You believe me though, right? I mean, I would never betray you, or this club. This is my fucking life,” I defend.
Ghost nods. “I believe you, brother. I know you are loyal to the club, apart from getting your dick sucked by a damn detective, but you have crossed a line brother, and you’ve got to speak to the brothers. Not right now, because the last thing I need is Star sticking her nose in, but tomorrow, I will call church, and you can explain all of what you’ve just told me to them, but maybe leave the part out about the good sex. I don’t need that vision in my mind of the detective when we next meet her.” He shudders.
“See? Told you he was in a good mood,” Spider says, coming up behind me and slapping me on the back.
With that my phone pings.
F; Hotel. One hour.
I catch Spider reading the message on my phone. “You got her saved as Fraser on your phone? She not got a first name?” He laughs.
I text my reply that I will be there and look at Spider. “Hallie, her name is Hallie, but even when we fuck, I call her Detective. So I just stored her name under her surname.” I shrug.
