The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 126: Dirty Business]

East Hollywood, Fountain Street.

Late at night, the second floor of the West Coast Media Entertainment Studio was shut tight. After an intense battle had ended, Hawke and Megan Taylor had just fallen asleep.

In her light sleep, Megan reached out and found Hawke's arm. Instinctively, she tugged it open and nestled into his warm embrace, resting her head on his broad shoulder. She quickly drifted off into a deep sleep.

Hawke returned the embrace, clutching what felt like a human-shaped pillow. Suddenly, the phone rang, jolting Hawke awake. His first instinct was to reach for his handgun.

Megan stirred awake, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and when she saw Hawke holding a gun, she immediately snapped into full alertness.

Hawke answered the phone, putting down the handgun and lightly tapping her smooth, fair face. "It's nothing. Someone called, and I overreacted."

Megan pointed to the handgun on the nightstand. "Was that necessary?"

"I've been in Los Angeles, and I've witnessed multiple shootings," Hawke muttered, picking up the call.