Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Slick had always figured that girls who showed up to a rough trade bar like Maria’s knew what they were getting into. Well, okay, they weren’t at Maria’s right now. Fine, Hawk decided. He’d take it easy on Tildy for the moment. But if she showed up at the bar tonight, she was fair game.
He smiled at the prospect.
Chapter 8
Tildy didn’t know about motorcycles. Or the Army. Or honky-tonk bars. All she knew was that the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on was smiling at her and she agreed to go to Maria’s later tonight without hesitating. Hawk seemed pleased and Sarah appeared less so, but Tildy couldn’t figure out why.
She helped Sarah rinse and pack up the lunch spread. Hawk then offered to take her home. Tildy was about to accept, but Sarah vetoed the idea immediately. Hawk gave up his invitation pretty easily. Too easily, Tildy thought, disappointed.
Chris had her sign the work order for the replacement of the faulty part. She wrote down her contact information and helped Sarah carry the sacks from lunch out to the car. Tildy gave the others a wave and blushed when Hawk winked at her as Sarah drove them out of the lot. They didn’t even make it to the end of the block before the older girl said, “Listen, Tildy. You seem like a really nice girl, and Maria’s can be a rough place. There are ex-cons, one-percenters-”
“One-percenters?”
Sarah glanced at her and nodded. “99% of MC’s, motorcycle clubs, are legit. But 1% of them are criminals. Serious criminals. Guns, drugs, prostitution.”
Tildy’s eyes widened. Hawk rode a motorcycle and apparently so did all the men at Burnout. “Hawk- I mean, they don’t-”
“No!” Sarah said quickly. “No, not at all. They just like to ride. Although Chris’ father was President of Rapid City’s one-percenter gang.”
Tildy gasped. “Seriously?”
Sarah nodded. “He was murdered in prison. Which is why Chris enlisted. He saw an opportunity to get out of that life and he took it.”
Tildy was stunned. She’d never actually met anyone who was a criminal before. Then Sarah floored her even further.
“You know,” Sarah said, somewhat uncomfortable, “Hawk’s no angel, either. He’s been to jail a few times.”
Tildy’s heart sank. “For what?” she asked, not really wanting to know.
“Doesn’t really matter,” Sarah replied. “My point is, Maria’s is a rough place and the men who hang out there are rough men. Including Hawk, and, well, it’s obvious you...like... him. I’m just saying that it’s not a good idea.”
“Well, thanks,” Tildy said after a while. “I guess I needed to know.”
Sarah dropped Tildy off in front of her house. Thankfully, the woman didn’t say anything about the fancy neighborhood. She gave Tildy a goodbye wave as she pulled away from the curb. Tildy moped into the house, went upstairs, and collapsed onto her bed. She dug the St. Christopher medal out of her purse and turned it over and over between her fingers. “A criminal, Isa? Are you sure he’s the one?”
But Tildy didn’t really have to ask. Isa said Hawk was the man for her. That couldn’t have been more obvious when the chain broke at the exact moment he touched her. Tildy closed her eyes and tried to make sense of it all. Isa had always said forgiveness was important. Every time Tildy’s mother pulled Tildy’s hair or pinched her or punished her in a hundred other ways, Isa always encouraged Tildy to forgive her.
“She’s sad, Tildy,” Isa had told her. “But she doesn’t want to feel sad. She’d rather feel angry and so she hurts you.”
“But I haven’t done anything!” Tildy would wail. “La odio!”
Isa would pull Tildy into her lap and smooth her hair, Isa’s touch so much gentler than Tildy’s own mother. “Shhh, mija,” Isa would say. “You don’t say things like that. Not even in Spanish so they can’t understand you. You don’t hate your mother. You must feel sorry for her. You must forgive.”
Tildy squeezed the medal in her palm. Isa would want her to forgive Hawk for whatever it was that he’d done. He wasn’t in jail now, and he had a steady job. Clearly, he had turned his life around. She pressed the medal to her lips. “Okay, Isa. I trust you.” She got up and headed downstairs in search of a tool to fix the broken link on the golden chain.
At 8:30 Tildy picked up her cell phone and dialed. A slightly confused voice answered on the other end. “Matilda?”
Skylar Harrison had been Tildy’s roommate at SDSU, for as much as Skylar had ever been in their room. Tildy had known her since elementary school, and Skylar had always been a social butterfly. It had been their parents that had suggested they room together. In the grand scheme of things, Tildy supposed that Skylar was, in fact, her ‘best’ friend