The tall one breaks first. Mike Stevens. The others follow. Jason Wright, Liam Bell, Connor Davis, Tyler Reed. Hawk nods.
Good. Now listen carefully. Eli is under my under the club's. You touch him. You threaten him.
You so much as look at him wrong. You'll what? Mike interrupts braver than he should be. Beat up high school kids. Hawk smiles.
It's not a nice smile. No, son. I'll talk to your parents. Tell them exactly what kind of boys they raised. Show them exactly what you tried to do to a disabled child.
The boys exchange uncomfortable glances. "My dad's a lawyer," Connor says. "You can't try me," Hawk says quietly. "See what happened. " The silence stretches. No one moves.
"Go home," Hawk says finally. "Think about the men you want to be because right now you're not even close. " They leave quickly, not looking back. Hawk turns to You okay? I nod. Where's Patch?
Trouble with his bike. He called me to cover. He studies my face. You sure you're okay? I'm fine, I say.
Just tired. Hawk understands what I don't say. Tired of being afraid. Tired of being a target. Come on, he says.
Let's get you home. He pushes my chair out to his bike. No sidecar on this one. He lifts me onto the seat, folds my chair, straps it to the back. Hold on tight, he says.
I wrap my arms around his waist. The leather of his vest is smooth under my hand. He starts the engine, and we roar out of the parking lot. We don't go straight home. Instead, Hawk takes the long way through the countryside outside town.
The wind rushes past. Fields stretch on either side. For a while, I forget about school, about bullies, about being different. I just feel free. Hawk pulls over at a lookout point above the town.
Kills the engine. The sudden silence is heavy. Better? He asks. I nod.
Much better. He helps me into my chair. We sit side by side, looking down at the town below. Why are you doing all this? I ask.
For me, I mean. Hawk doesn't answer right away. He takes off his sunglasses, cleans them with the edge of his shirt. "My brother," he says finally. "Jamie, he was a Marine.
Vietnam, stepped on a mine, lost both legs. I wait, not wanting to interrupt. He came home to a country that didn't want to know him. " Hawk's voice is rough. People looked away, called him names, treated him like he was less than human. "What happened to him? " I asked quietly.
"Killed himself. " 1975. I was overseas, couldn't get back in time. Hawk puts his sunglasses back on. I found him in the bathtub. I don't know what to There are no words for that kind of I'm sorry.
I manage finally. Hawk nods once. Me too, kid. We sit in silence for a while. The sun begins to set, painting the sky orange and gold.