Making the Break (Beating the Biker 2)

“Don’t ask.”

“Obama repealed ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell.’”

Saks snorted. “Stop being nosy and help me up.”

Luke came closer and looked closer at his shoulder.

“Damn. Looks like you tore your stitches.”

Saks glanced at his shoulder where red blood welled. He blew out a breath. That’s what he got for being a tough guy.

“Doesn’t look good. What the hell were you doing?”

“Just help me up so I can clean up, and let’s get out of here.”

“Did you pack?”

“No. Didn’t have a chance.” Luke had refused to let him stay here. Louis had agreed as well. Saks had figured he’d be fine once he got to the apartment and everyone would let him stay. Except, suddenly, he didn’t want to be here anymore.

“Where’s a duffle?”

“Closet, top shelf.”

Luke held out his arm, and Saks pulled himself up and managed the stand without too much pain. Then he stumbled on his own feet and Luke caught him. “Fuck, where’s your clothes, man?”

Saks pointed to the floor. The room spun. He wasn’t doing so good.

“Where’s Hawk? Isn’t he supposed to be here to help you?”

“He went for my pain medicine.”

“How long ago?”

“Not sure. Maybe an hour ago.”

“That’s a long time to hit something down the street,” muttered Luke. He pulled out his phone and speed-dialed a number. “Damn,” Luke muttered under his breath. “No answer.” He dialed the number again as he helped get some pants on Saks. He straightened suddenly as a voice came on the phone.

Saks couldn’t make it out.

“What?” Luke said. “I’m Luke Wade. Who’s this?” His face took on an especially grim expression. “Yeah. He was picking up a prescription for a mutual friend... Painkillers No sure what.”

Saks did the button on his jeans with one hand, not liking what was going on. He watched his boss closely.

Luke’s eyebrows knitted in a frown and his lips drew tight in anger. “As far as I know, the last person who saw him was Anthony Parks. Yeah, he’s home... No, we’re leaving now... Fine... Here’s my number if you want to take statements.” Luke ended the call.

“What’s going on?” Saks asked.

“Bullshit,” said Luke. He dialed another number. “Hey, Matt. Get over to Saks’ apartment. Yeah, the police are on the way to take our statements. No, we didn’t do anything wrong. Yet. Yeah,” he said, looking straight at Saks. “It’s bad. Someone shot our probey, Hawk.”

“What?” Saks stared in shock at Luke. Hawk? Shot?

“Oakie,” rasped Luke into the phone. “Get everyone over here to Saks’. Now. Someone shot Hawk. About an hour ago. The police are on their way over to take our statements.”

Luke.” Saks gripped his friend’s arm. “What the hell just happened?”

Luke’s eyes blazed. “First you, and then Hawk. This shit stops now. Hawk’s dead.”

Saks swallowed. While he was fucking his brains out, someone shot Hawk. “Oh, shit. This is all my fault.”