Hawk Read online

  "What the hell for?"

  He shrugs. "My options were limited. Alex-"

  "Don't you ‘Alex’ me," I shout, then lower my voice.

  God, I don't know who might be listening.

  "Hawk, four years. Not a word. No text messages, no post cards, nothing. You fell off the face of the planet after-"

  After what? What am I going to say? What actual obligation did he have to stay? At any point were we more than just friends?

  It's not a question I want to answer, because I've been pining for him all this time. Look at him now, muscled like a Greek god, and good Lord those tattoos are hot. I feel a weird urge to lick his arms and see what they taste like. There's more under his shirt- I can see a bird or something where the relish juice soaked through. Knowing him, it's probably a hawk. He starts towards me and I take a step back.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Alexis, can we try talking? Thanks. Look, I-"

  "You what?"

  "Stop interrupting-"

  "No."

  "Alex!"

  "Say what you came to say, Hawk."

  "Okay, I-"

  "Go on."

  "Damn it!"

  He scowls at me but he's starting to laugh, the way he always used to when he was trying to act serious and I made him crack up. His chest jerks up and down and his shoulders tense as he tries to bite down on his laugh and keep it from escaping. Like an idiot, I smile in spite of myself and all but flutter my eyelashes at him. Hell, maybe I just did flutter my eyelashes at him, I'm not completely sure. The way he's looking at me makes me feel lightheaded, almost. He's different but the same, and when he smiles at me his eyes have the same mischief I remember but behind it there's something darker, haunted, like his eyes have seen too much.

  Do I have that same look?

  "Alex," he says, "I have… I have a lot to explain I just… what's up with that?"

  He points at my chest. I glance down and grit my teeth.

  "Oh, this. My stepfather has me working for his campaign."

  "Your who? Your mom got married? Why would your stepdad have you working for…"

  I watch it dawn on him. His face goes slack, then twists in rage.

  "He married your mother?"

  I just look at him and nod, sadly. "Didn't anyone tell you?"

  "No. I haven't talked to anyone from home."

  "Why?"

  "I had my reasons."

  I glare at him. Harder.

  "You had your reasons. You. Had. Your. Reasons."

  "Yeah."

  I pace closer to him and thrust my finger in his face. He doesn't even flinch.

  "You just fucking disappear, pop back up now and say 'I had my reasons' and you expect me to accept it?"

  "I… yes."

  Fury snakes down my arm like a hot wire and before I realize what I'm doing, I slap him.

  "I waited for you," I snap, my voice strained. "Every day I hoped and listened and watched, waiting for you to come back. I knew you wouldn't leave me, but you did. Four years of waiting and waiting and waiting."

  "I did come back."

  His words twist something in me until it snaps.

  "Now. You come back now. When it's too fucking late."

  "What do you mean?"

  There's a bruise rising on his face, but he just looks at me and asks me what I mean. The longer I stay silent the deeper his gaze feels, the more the tension in his body grows. I never felt afraid of Hawk, and I don't now, but there's an intensity in him that makes me nervous, sets me on edge, like a faint musical note on the edge of hearing. He's changed.

  I open and close my mouth.

  What am I supposed to tell him? It would take hours, and I doubt he'd believe half of it. I don't believe half of it. Here I am, so close, and he comes crashing into my life again at the worst possible time. I know him. He's going to make a huge scene and just ruin everything.

  "I don't need you anymore."

  The cold in my own voice almost impresses me. Hawk flinches, more now than he did when I hit him. Both times. He moves closer.

  "You don't?"

  I take a step back. "No, I don't."

  "I need you."

  "That's great, Hawk. Maybe you should have needed me for the last-"

  "Did you miss the part where I joined the military? We don't get vacation."

  "Sure you do. They call it leave, or something."

  He's moving closer. I'm back up. There's a wall behind me.

  "Besides," I go on, "Even if you couldn't come home, you could’ve looked me up. I'm not hard to find. Sent me an email, something, anything. A text message. Wrote a note and stuck it in a bottle."

  "No, I couldn't."

  "Well why the fuck not, Hawk? Don't feed me some bullshit about being a CIA assassin or something, I swear-"

  He surges forward and grabs me by the arms. He's so strong. As soon as he touches me, I'm completely in his power. It feels like he could lift me off my feet and it would be as effortless as lifting a feather. I freeze, and stare at him. That intensity is there, stronger than ever. He moves forward, pulls me towards him, and I push on him to stop him.

  "You're covered in goop."

  He looks down at his chest, lets go of me, and whips off his shirt in a single smooth motion. I gasp in spite of myself, my mouth falling open. Okay, he's big, and he's ripped. I swear his veins have veins, and there's more tattoos than I thought. He's covered in them, intricate patterns that wrap around his whole torso and disappear into the waistband of his jeans. Before I realize what I'm doing, I drag my fingernails over his skin, tracing the patters and outlines in the ink, my heart pounding in my chest. I look up at him and swallow, and tuck my lip under my teeth.

  Hawk pushes forward and pulls me against him.

  "We can't do this."

  "Why not?"

  "I'm your stepsister."

  "Like I care."

  "Tell me why you left?"

  He kisses me. Hard.

  It's good. I slip my arms around him.

  Holy shit, if somebody looks down this alley -say, somebody that saw us chase each other through the crowd- they're going to see Hawk's back and my arms wrapped around him.

  Also, my legs wrapped around him. Because I'm up against a brick wall and I just lifted my legs and hooked them around his hips. He bears the weight like nothing and his arms crush me against him. I squeeze back, digging my knees into his sides. I can feel his ribs expanding against me as he breathes. It's like being held by a castle. Slowly, I lower my legs and set my feet on the ground- barely. When he holds me around the waist and stands up straight, my toes barely scape the ground.

  "I had to go. I had to."

  "You could’ve said something."

  "There was so much I wanted to say."

  His fingers tickle my side, but more than that, they bunch up the cloth of my top, tugging the hem loose from my jeans. His fingers are warm on my skin as he pulls my shirt loose, and yanks at my belt so hard, it shakes my whole body. I breathe faster, heat spreading through my body as I glance towards the end of the alley and he pops the top button on my jeans and draws the zipper down. I'm not wearing hip huggers, or anything like that. A simple jerk and they slide down to my knees with a soft metallic sound from my belt buckle and the air is hot on my legs, but gooseflesh rises anyway.

  His hand moves over my thigh. His palm is rough, calloused from hard work, his touch harder than I remember. His hand touches inside my thigh and I go very quiet as his palm slides up, his fingers moving towards me. He kisses me again as his fingertips trace over my lower lips, heat in my mouth as he presses the fabric against my slit and the wetness soaks through. For a moment I just drink in his scent and his warmth and the soft touch of his lips on mine and then his hand dives into my panties and slips under me, first his fingers and then his palm sliding over my mound, wetting themselves from my arousal. He holds his hand there and presses a little and I feel myself throbbing.

  Hawk pulls back an
d looks me in the face. I'm angry with him, but I give him a tiny nod, a little whisper of permission, and his finger slips inside me slowly, bigger than I thought it would feel, and my hands clench on his shoulders. I want to make a sound, but someone will hear. With all the chatter and carnival noises and shouting and revelry outside the alley someone will still hear my cry of pleasure.

  "Fuck that's tight," he growls in my ear, and I feel a weird flutter of pride and smile, and my smile melts into a slack expression of pleasure.

  His other hand starts roaming. Through my shirt he cups my breast and squeezes, and his mouth moves to my throat. His lips and tongue are hot and wet and his breath cools the heat on my skin and heats it again and all of a sudden he kneels and tugs my underwear down, keeps his finger inside me and brings his mouth to my pussy, looking up at me as he buries his face in my mound. When he takes a long, dragging lick, I stifle my cry by covering my mouth with my hand and my eyes dart back and forth from Hawk to the end of the alley and back again as he tastes me.

  I can't look anymore. I close my eyes and shudder, my hips rolling in slow, involuntarily motions, riding him. Hawk keeps his eyes on me, staring back at me every time I look down at him. I rub my hand over his head. He cut his hair. He always had such beautiful hair, a lovely sandy blond. Everybody used to joke that he had a girl's hair. They must have made him cut it, that's what they do. I have to cover my mouth again as the movement of his finger inside me sends a spiraling twist of pleasure riding up through my body as cold shocks fall down my legs and curl my toes in my sneakers. I buck against him.

  He could fuck me right now. Spin me around, pin me against the wall and just hammer me. I want it so bad, and he knows I want it. I can't take much more. I want him, I want him, I want him. I've wanted this for so long I can't remember a time when I didn't.

  "S-s-somebody might see us," I choke out, struggling as every word wants to become a moan.

  "I don't care," he growls, and a second finger slips inside me.

  At first it's almost too much. I can't tell him that…

  What, you're still a virgin? You waited for him, you dumb girl?

  I don't even know if it counts anymore. His fingers drive me insane and his mouth on my clit is too much to take. I squeal through my teeth and my legs shake as a climax uncoils through my body, floods in a white-hot wave until it soaks through my skin, like there's a fire inside me and I'm glowing from within. It gets more and more intense, ebbs and grows again as I groan and my legs buckle. Finally Hawk stands up and slips his fingers out of me and kisses me hard again, and I can taste myself in his mouth, feel the heat on my chin.

  There's nothing between me and him but his jeans. My hands slide up his legs and he shudders when I touch his balls, and gaps when I run my hand up the underside of his shaft, hard under his clothes.

  "We can't do this," I whisper.

  "Why not?"

  I wriggle out from under him, stumble, and yank my pants up, frantically buckling them.

  Hawk moves closer and I think he's going to grab me but instead he helps me tuck my shirt back in and smooths the sides, turns me around and pulls me against him.

  "Come with me, right now."

  "What? Where?"

  "Anywhere but here."

  "I can't. I can't leave my sister."

  "We'll take her. Go get her."

  "I can't, Hawk."

  "Why?"

  I push back and slip out of his arms. "Your father."

  His eyes flash and rage twists his face. A quiver of fear bolts through me. He's scary. Then he softens.

  "What about my father?" he says, his voice low like a suppressed growl.

  "It's complicated. I can't… I can't leave."

  "Because you're working for him?"

  "Because no matter where I go, I can't get away from him. I shouldn't even be here talking to you. You don't know what you've done. He'll know you came up to me at the hot dog cart. He knows everything. If I try to run, he'll use May against me. She's a minor. He'll have the police hunt us down and drag us back here and put me back in…"

  I trail off.

  No, no I can't tell him that. I can't. I can't. I can't.

  "Put you back in where?"

  "It doesn't matter."

  "Alex-"

  "No, Hawk. I needed you and you weren't there. We had a chance and the chance passed. This was all you're going to get."

  "I'm not going to abandon you again."

  "Again," I say, bitterly. "Don't follow me."

  "What happens if I do?"

  I've already started to leave, but I round on him.

  "What do you think you can do, Hawk? Fight the whole town? Your dad’s going to be the mayor of this shithole. The cops already do everything he says. He owns half the town. I don't care how big you are, you can't do anything about him. If you pull some bullshit, you have no idea what’ll happen."

  "Yes, I do. I left because he threatened you."

  I freeze. "What?"

  "He-"

  "He threatened me and your answer was to leave me here?"

  "I thought you'd be gone, the scholarship-"

  "He married my mother a month after you left. I lasted until fall break and then they…" I trail off, unable to finish.

  No, no, no, no, never talk about that never ever.

  "They what?"

  "It doesn't matter," I spit at him. "I don't need you anymore. When I needed you, you weren't there."

  "Alex, let me explain. You don't know what happened-"

  "I don't care what happened, Hawk. It was nice when we were younger. I wish it was more than it was, but it's not. It's over and it needs to be over. Go back where you came from before you make my life worse."

  I turn and storm out of the alley, blinking away tears in the hot sun. Every atom of my body is screaming at me to turn around and rush back to him and just run and run until we both drop, until there's half a planet between us and this hell. He came back, he came back.

  The other part of me clings to the truth: It's too late, and I have work to do.

  There's only one person who's going to stop Tom Richardson.

  Me.

  Hawk

  Now

  So here I am standing in the alley between an empty pharmacy and an empty furniture store, shirtless, smelling vaguely of mustard, Alexis' juices on my fingers. I'm not completely sure what just happened. One moment she was clenched up around me, her body pulsing with pleasure as she clamped down my fingers, the words fuck me wordlessly on her lips, and then she shoves me away and storms off, and tells me to go back where I came from.

  Let me think.

  No.

  I scrub my hands clean in my fouled t-shirt and toss it into an old trash can someone abandoned in the alley and stride back out into the open. I get more stares now; the tats are on full display. The screaming hawk on my chest, chains and vines on my arms, and the biggest one on my back, a lovely angel wielding a reaper's scythe. She spreads her wings across my back and stares defiantly and, to be honest, looks a lot like Alex. I'm not the only person walking around shirtless, it's fucking hot, but every eye in the place is on me anyway.

  Alexis is sitting on an upturned bucket, chugging a bottle of water and wiping at her forehead with a napkin as I stride up the sidewalk towards the hot dog carts. She looks up and scrubs her hand over her face, shakes the sweat off, and strides back to the cart.

  "Go away, Hawk."

  "Nope. We need to talk."

  "We can't," she says calmly, looking away from me. She settles in place behind the cart.

  Her legs are still shaking. She's trying to look calm.

  A guy in a Hawaiian shirt and straw hat walks up to the hot dog stand and I shoulder in front of him.

  "We're closed," I say, curtly.

  "I’m open," May sighs. "Here, sir."

  May slathers mustard on the guy's hot dog while I stare down Alexis, arms folded over my chest.

  "We can’t do this here," she say
s, softly.

  That's a step up over we can't, I guess.

  "Hawk, I can't be seen with you," she says, lowering her voice further. "Please. You don't understand what you're doing."

  "I'll deal with my father."

  She looks up. "Will you?"

  That one cuts me. I even flinch a little. There's a quiet venom in her voice I've never heard before. God she looks just the same, like I stepped into a dream and stepped back out with no time in between. It's not like she's never been mad at me before but she was never truly angry with me. We used to fight as often as not, and there was once a week when she didn't talk to me and left me with a deep emptiness that at the time I didn't recognize for what it was.

  "What do you want?"

  "I want to talk."

  "We can't talk here. We shouldn't talk at all. It's best for both of us if you leave me alone. Go. Please."

  "Alex-"

  "Hawk, please." Her voice cracks a little. "If you don't leave your father is going to… show… up…" she trails off.

  Alexis freezes like a deer in the headlights and looks over my shoulder. I turn, and there he is.

  Tall, an inch taller than me, he's wearing a polo shirt, slacks and boat shoes, and sweating. My father could pass for my brother, age-wise, even if he's a little older than you'd expect for a man with an eldest son my age. The only sign of his years is a flaring wing of gray in his hair on either side of his head, and faint lines around his eyes that only show when he grimaces. He's smiling now, but if you covered the bottom half of his face it would show his smile false, as it doesn't touch his eyes. It never does and never did.

  There isn't even a moment of confusion. He recognizes me immediately.

  He pretends he doesn't.

  "Alexis, is this man bothering you?"

  "No, dad, he just-"

  Dad. She called him dad. What the fuck?"

  "This man?" I say, smirking. "Dad. Really."

  "Hawk?" he says, feigning confusion, then surprise.

  Sometimes I think I might be crazy. It's like I'm the only one who sees it. His expressions look natural unless you pay a little too much attention. His eyes are dead, lifeless, like a shark's eyes. Two green buttons without an ounce of empathy or feeling, seeing through you.