Free Hawk (Sex and Bullets Book 2) by Jo Raven

it all under control, and you are where you want to be. The best place to gain power over a huge illegal organization for which you turned in your parents and all. Yeah, I’ll go and leave you to it. I’ll get out of your hair.”
    It’s funny how he stares at me, slack-jawed, as I pick myself up from the floor and go to collect the spilled coins, stuffing them back into my wallet, and grab my purse. I sling my purse over one arm and wave at him jauntily.
    “See? I’m leaving you in peace.” I smile, all fake brightness. “I’m guessing I won’t be seeing you again. A pity. You weren’t a bad fuck.”
    Ah. Sometimes I do get the dramatic parting shot right, don’t I?
    A darkness flashes through his clear gaze, and for a moment I pause, my smile dropping—because it doesn’t look like anger, but rather like despair, like raw and naked fear and misery—but then it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared, leaving me reeling.
    “Don’t even think about calling anyone,” he says. “Or the police.”
    “I know.” If I do, chances are these people will kill him. Can’t risk it, and they wouldn’t listen to me anyway.
    He nods. “Take care, Layla,” he says, his voice barely audible.
    Something niggles at me as I cast him one last look and make my way to the stairs. I’m already halfway there when it hits me:
    He said my name. For the first time since I introduced myself to him, he actually said my name.
    I stop, turn around. He’s put the tray down and has his face in his hands.
    Oh God. I shouldn’t have turned. Forcing myself not to walk back to him and put my arms around him is tearing me apart. I don’t understand why I have tears in my eyes.
    Never thought he could so easily break my heart to pieces.

Chapter Seven
    Hawk
    She was here, and now she’s gone again, and fuck, I wish she hadn’t come at all. I didn’t feel so alone before.
    Dammit. Shut the fuck up, brain. It’s good she left. I just hope to God she makes it out of this place safely and gets back to her quiet, simple life. A life that’s not mixed up with criminals and gangsters, like mine.
    I’m used to it. Had many years to digest the concept.
    I shouldn’t get used to her presence so easily. To the gentleness of her touch. Her concern.
    Nothing to be concerned about. She thinks I didn’t expect this. That I wasn’t prepared.
    She’s wrong.
    I just didn’t expect her to be a part of it. But it doesn’t matter. She’s just a hot body. She doesn’t matter to me.
    She doesn’t.
    I repeat this to myself, force myself to believe it as I curl up as best I can for the night. It doesn’t matter she’s still wearing the bracelet I gave her, that she stuck around to make sure I was okay, that she believed even for a moment I’m a good guy.
    My head is pounding, my heart is hammering, but exhaustion is dragging me under. I’ve been missing now three days… right? Time has sort of blurred, the hours stretching, day blending into night. I have one name. The Boss, if that’s who he really is.
    Is it enough? I could run after her, ask her to call someone, anyone. Call the police, call my friends. Get me out this hell.
    Tomorrow I could move things along faster, tell the Boss I’ll do whatever he wants and get a phone call. One phone call to any of my lawyers or admin staff will be enough for me to give the signal that I need rescue.
    But I know it’s not enough. If I last one more day, get more info… then the GPS in my watch will be activated, wherever it is they’re keeping it, and the cavalry will come. I just need to hold out one day and one night more.
    I can do this.
    I can fucking do this.
    Storm and Rook are gonna have fucking kittens if the signal doesn’t reach them on the fourth day.
    The signal will reach them. It’s gonna work out just fine, and I’m losing the battle for consciousness. Sleep tugs me under, and it’s a fucking relief to give in, to lose track for a while. To let it all fade to black.
    Sharp