Savage Collision: A Hawke Family Novel (The Hawke Family Book 1) (44 page)

“We have no reason to talk, Dom, not unless any unfortunate accidents befall any of us. Like I said, we keep our mouths shut, you agree not to move against any of us, and, if you do, the original notes go to the FBI and the two other copies to the local police, and the media.”

I know there isn’t enough there to actually arrest him. Most of it is stories and speculations, but it could lead to new sources of information, and ultimately, maybe a legit prosecution. My hope is that he doesn’t want to risk that.

I’m also relying on the fact that he cares for my mother. He now knows how much Danika means to me, and by association, my family. Men like Abello don’t have loyalty to much, but family is the exception, and as far as he’s concerned, we are family.

The corner of his mouth twitches up. “You forgot the part where I somehow convince Mayor Dunne to resign and never run for public office again.”

“And that.” I grin at him as I down the rest of my Scotch. Glancing at Gabe, I find his usual stoicism has returned. That man has ice in his veins, at least that’s what I always believed.

Abello rubs his chin and examines the envelope as if he has x-ray vision and can see its contents. When I handed it over to him at the beginning of our meeting, he opened it and glanced at its contents, then shoved them back in as if he could care less. Now, he looks at it like he holds the construction plans to Fort Knox in his palms.

After a moment of contemplation, he nods and gives us another fake smile. “You have a deal, gentlemen. But, don’t push me. I’m not a man you should fuck with, and I would really hate to upset your mother, Savage.”

The veiled threat does not go unnoticed, and I bite my tongue to avoid setting him off. This was it, this was all we had, our only plan, our only chance to get out of this with Danika’s safety assured. I could fucking care less about my safety, and I know Gabe feels the same way, but neither of us could live with ourselves if we played a role in bringing her into the crossfire, again.

“Good evening, gentlemen.” He slips from the booth and is immediately surrounded by his entourage of armed goons.

I release the breath I’ve been holding for so long my chest aches, and drop my head into my hands. Gabe calls for our waiter and orders us another round of Scotch.

“No, man,” I say, turning toward him, “I need to get home to Danika.”

He smacks me on the back as the waiter sets the tumblers of amber liquid on the white fabric tablecloth. “No, you need to drink this and relax. If you go home to her all jacked up on adrenaline like you are right now, it will not end well. Trust me, I know from experience.”

I nod at him and pick up the glass, swirling it around with my hand. Maybe he’s right. I do need to calm down before seeing Danika. This is the end, of all the lies, all the bullshit, all the drama, and it’s a new beginning for us. Some decompression time is a good thing.

Gabe drops his elbows to the table and drains his glass in one swallow. Imitating him, I tip the tumbler back and savor the sting of the liquid flowing down my throat as I drain it.

I twist and spin the empty tumbler on the table, the candlelight reflecting off the facets, sending flashes of rainbow colors across the white tablecloth. I make my decision then and there and pull my phone from my jacket so I can call Danika.

“Savage? Where are you? Are you all right?” The panic in her voice makes me regret waiting even the two minutes it took to have another drink.

“Baby, I’m fine. Everything is fine. It worked.” She releases a massive sob and I can picture her crumpled up on the couch with Princess, crying and shaking. I should be there with her, and knowing I’m going to delay my return even more is a knife twisting in my gut. “Shh, don’t cry. I’ll be home soon.”

She sniffles, and rather than being disgusting, it’s somehow adorable. “Please come home to me.”

“I will, baby. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“Where the hell is he?” I ask Princess as I pace the floors of the condo for the hundredth time chewing on my nail so badly I’m starting to bleed. “Shit,” I yank my finger from my mouth, “he said he was coming home over an hour ago. He should be here by now.”

I finally force myself to sit on the couch and I stare at the door, willing it to open, willing him to come through it. Princess jumps onto my lap and I run my fingers through her silky fur, trying to push myself to take deep breaths and telling myself not to cry again.

He’s fine.

He called.

He’s fine.

Images of fiery crashes and Paul’s head exploding before my eyes race through my head. The tears start again. Fucking Abello, he’s a psychopath. The coldest of the cold, ruthless and unforgiving. Will he really let us all walk away unscathed? Did he agree only to give Savage and Gabe a false sense of security before taking them out the moment they left Angelo’s?

My heart races and the tears increase. I become a sobbing mess. Princess stands on my lap, leaning up to lick at my face and offer me what comfort she can.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I check for the millionth time for a call or text from Savage, but, nothing. I shoot off a text.

< Where are you? >

I wait anxiously for a reply, but when none comes, I call. Straight to voicemail.

My worry is now bordering on hysteria as I move from the couch, setting Princess on the floor and begin to pace again.

I call Gabe. Same result.

Frustrated, I almost chuck my phone at the wall, but realize no one will be able to get a hold of me if I destroy it.

Deep breaths.

In. Out. Repeat.

I’m so focused on keeping myself breathing, I don’t even hear the door open.

“Danika.”

His voice snaps me from my neurotic pacing and I whip around to face the door. It shuts behind him just as Princess jumps up onto his lap. He absently runs his hand down from her head to her back before shooing her off.

I assess him, making sure he is okay before I rush to him, climbing onto his lap and throwing my arms around his neck, clutching him to me. He wraps his arms around me, embracing me and holding me to him while I sob against his neck.

Thank God.

Finally, I’m able to catch my breath and I pull back, my eyes finding his. I can see a storm of emotions in their blue depths.

I smack him on the shoulder. “Where the hell were you? I was freaking the fuck out. You said you would be home over an hour ago.”

Capturing my face in his hands, he kisses me gently. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I had something I had to take care of.”

“And you couldn’t have called?” I bark, shoving at his chest. “I thought something happened to you. You weren’t answering your phone.”

He frowns and reaches into his breast pocket, removing his phone and glancing down at it. “Shit, the battery died and I didn’t even notice.”

I scowl at him, crossing my arms over my chest as he gives me an apologetic half-smile. He slides his phone back into his pocket and once again takes my face in his hands.

“I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

The sincerity in his voice weakens me and the tirade I was about to unleash on him goes out the window. We are finally free of the Abello threat. “So, it’s really over?”

He smiles and nods, brushing my hair back behind my ears. “It’s really over.” Dragging my head down, he takes my mouth with his. I pour all the anxiety and turmoil of the last week into our kiss.

His tongue slides along my bottom lip, urging me to open for him. Permitting him access, I suck him in as I slide my legs to the side, straddling his hips. The kiss deepens and a low groan emanates from him.

He bites my bottom lip and my clit throbs in response. I grind my hips against his, pushing my core against his erection. He moans and releases my lip with a pop.

My eyes meet his and I see the same lust and love there I hope he can see in mine. I reach for his belt and yank it off. I fling it across the room, a loud bang sounding as the metal clasp strikes the wood floor. He chuckles against my neck and licks his way up to my ear as I work the buttons and zipper of his pants. My hands shake, making the task ridiculously difficult.

Finally, I’m able to slip my hand in and wrap my palm around his cock. He hisses against my ear as I stroke his length, sliding the pad of my thumb across the head of his cock, spreading the pre-cum.

“Shit, baby, I need to be inside you…” he growls in my ear and slides his hand up under the t-shirt I’m wearing. His eyes widen when his fingers find my wet core. “No panties?”

I shake my head when he strokes my flesh, his thumb swirling around my clit, causing my hips to buck against him.

Fuck.

“You, inside me…now.”

He moves his hand and I guide the head of his cock inside of me before slamming my hips down, impaling myself on him.

He catches my gasp in his mouth, kissing me deeply while I squeeze around his hot flesh. I rock against him, riding his cock hard. I slam down on him with so much force, his chair actually shifts on the floor. Neither of us care.

I’m completely consumed by him. He is my everything, and I know I can never live without him, without this in my life.

Sliding his hand between us, his long fingers find my clit and I press against them as he rolls and pinches it in the way we both know is certain to quickly send me over the edge. The fire in my core builds and I drop my head back, his free hand finding my breast under the shirt and tugging at my erect nipple.

“Fuck! Yes, baby, just like that…please…”

He groans in appreciation and kisses his way up my neck. I tilt my head down, allowing my mouth to meet his as the inferno rages inside me, about to explode.

One more twist of my nipple and my orgasm slams into me, my entire body rolling and bucking uncontrolled on his cock. My walls squeeze against him. He curses and drops his forehead against mine as he comes, pulse after pulse of heat coating my core.

I collapse against him—wrung out emotionally and physically. Our panting breaths mix until I can’t tell what’s his or what’s mine. The aftershocks of my orgasm cause random muscle spasms and shakes in my body. His arms surround me and he kisses me gently.

“I love you, baby. I’m so sorry I worried you.”

The reminder of my earlier anger registers and I pull away from him. “Yeah, where the hell were you, anyway?”

He grins and mischief sparkles in his eyes.

“What?” I ask, my annoyance growing at his seeming nonchalance regarding my earlier distress, caused solely by him.

Douchebag. Does he have any idea how frantic I was?

He leans in to kiss me again, but I retreat, shaking my head. “Oh no, don’t you dare try to distract me.”

A resigned sigh puffs from his lips as they curl into a little half-smile. “Reach in my right jacket pocket.”

Sliding my hand between his shirt and jacket, I find the interior pocket and reach down, my fingers connecting with a small, velvet box.

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.

My heart thuds in my chest and a loud rush floods my ears as I squeeze my eyes closed and try to catch my breath.

“Danika?” He takes my face in his hands and lifts my head up toward him. “Baby, look at me.”

I open my eyes and find his concerned ones staring back at me.

“Take a deep breath and pull it out.”

Seems easy enough.

In through the nose, out through the mouth. Breathe. Breathe.

Finally, the rushing sound in my ears dissipates and I can once again feel the box at my fingertips inside his pocket. I curl my hand around it and pull it out, opening my hand so the black box sits on my palm.

He reaches up, takes it from my hand, and flips it open, turning it to face me.

My breath catches again when I see the ring.

A beautiful solitaire. Simple. Perfect.

“I was going to ask you tomorrow night at dinner, but I don’t want to wait anymore. I don’t want to wait for anything with you. We’ve waited long enough.”

I couldn’t agree more.

I throw my arms around him, clutching him to me as the tears pool and streak down my face. He chuckles. “Is that a yes?”