Hawk took a drink of wine and then coughed. He coughed again.
Dawn frowned. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Hawk turned to the side and coughed harder.
Dawn jumped up and poured him a glass of water. “Hawk?”
He took the water and downed the entire glass. “I’m fine, Dawnie.”
Then he coughed again, his eyes widening.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Dawn grabbed the glaze to read the neatly typed ingredients. She hadn’t thought. Shit. “Strawberries.” She whirled around toward Hawk, who was holding his throat. “I didn’t think. When I bought it, you’d already left town. I didn’t think.” She scrambled for the phone. Hawk had had an allergy to strawberries his whole life. “EpiPen?”
He shook his head, his mouth gaping open.
“Oh God.” She quickly dialed 911 as Hawk pitched forward and onto the floor.
Chapter Nine
There’s strength and power in softness.
~ The Lady Elks Secret Archives
A bomb flashed white and hot across Hawk’s vision. He ducked, recoiling from the burning fire. Cries of pain echoed in his mind.
The dream morphed to the day he discovered his friend, his fellow soldier, had been funneling drugs.
“What the hell?” he’d asked Meyer, standing with their friend, Chancy Plet, a very tough soldier from Colorado, who was as furious as Hawk.
His buddy stood in the desert night, ignoring the wind throwing sand around them. Brown hair, buzz cut, and serious dark eyes. “I’m tired of the bullshit, Hawk. The drugs are getting in with or without us, and we can do more good with the money than anybody else. Don’t you think?”
Hawk had shaken his head. They’d fought together for three months, which in the desert, was a fucking lifetime. “This isn’t you.” Sure, Meyer had jumped into danger more than once, often recklessly, but war was war. They all had to be crazy to survive it. “Tell me you haven’t gone too far.”
Meyer shrugged. “Define ‘too far’. I’ve moved drugs, made deals, and done my time.”
No. Done his time? He’d killed for the drug business—for greed. Even so, Hawk tried to reach out. “Let me help you get out of this. We’ll turn you in, say it was a mistake, and figure out what to do now.”
Meyer nodded. “Fine.” Then he pivoted, just enough, and stabbed Chancy in the gut.
The world had slowed to a stop. Hawk reacted, lunging forward and taking Meyer down. Pain ripped through his thigh, and he glanced down to yank the blade out, punching at the same time.
Meyer had jumped and ran.
Hawk, bleeding profusely, had turned to his injured friend on the ground. He’d be all right, but it took time to recuperate from gut wounds, unfortunately. “I’ll get him. I promise you, he’ll spend eternity in prison for this.”
Hawk woke from the nightmare and sat up, reaching for the knife not strapped to his hip.
“You’re okay,” said a rough voice from his left.
Hawk blinked and fought a chill from the cool air. The smell of bleach filled his nostrils. He turned to find Quinn Lodge kicked back in a hospital guest chair, gun at his leg, badge at his belt, and a plastic cup of pudding in one broad hand. Hawk glanced down at his gown and tracked the ticking of the machine next to the bed. He yanked the oxygen tubes from his nose. “Is that my pudding?” he croaked.
Quinn swallowed a spoonful and nodded. “Yep. Vanilla, and damn good. You want some?”
Hawk’s stomach rolled. “No.” He fell back against the pillows. “Shit. Is Dawn okay?”
“She’s fine.” Quinn set the empty container on the bright orange counter. “A bit panicked, but I got to you before the ambulance and had an EpiPen on hand. Why didn’t you?”
Hawk scrubbed both hands down his still swollen face. “Just got home and hadn’t stocked up.” He grimaced. “I dropped in on Dawn unexpectedly, and I’m sure she wasn’t thinking about strawberries. This is my fault.” His throat felt like he’d swallowed a combination of torn sandpaper and broken Christmas ornaments. “Sorry.”
“No worries. It happens.” Quinn’s dark eyes darkened further. “That was quite a nightmare you were having.”
Hawk took a deep breath. “I’m fine, Quinn.”
“I know. Want to talk about it?”
“Sure. Meyer stabbed me and my friend. I promised to catch his ass and shut him down. Apparently I’m failing.”
Quinn adjusted the badge at his belt. “Your friend okay?”
“Yeah, now. But it took some serious hospital and rehab time.” In fact, Chancy was safely in Idaho running a bed and breakfast with a woman he’d known forever.
Quinn swallowed. “Have you seen anybody? For the nightmares, I mean?” The sheriff was like a bloodhound with a scent when he wanted answers.
“Yes.” Hawk picked at the tape for the IV stuck in his elbow. “I’ve seen somebody, and still do via Skype once in a while.” He wasn’t stupid enough to think he could beat PTSD all on his own. “It’s better.”
Quinn nodded. “We have a group that meets the first Thursday of every month, if you want to join. I mean, once you finish with Meyer and whatever the rest of the dumb-ass mission is.”
Hawk lifted an eyebrow. “I thought you all met to play poker.”
Quinn shrugged. “We play poker, and sometimes we talk if somebody needs to talk to others who’ve been there. If nobody needs to talk, we drink and take all of Jake’s money. He sucks at poker.”
Jake had served two tours and bore the scars well. He was also one of the best lawyers in the Pacific Northwest and could bluff with the best of them. “I somehow doubt that,” Hawk muttered.
Quinn rested his hand on his badge. “This reminds me of not too long ago when you were in the hospital. You said you were in a helicopter wreck, but in truth had been in quite the fight.”
Hawk stilled. Shit.
Quinn cleared his throat. “It occurred to me, somewhat belatedly, I admit, that perhaps Meyer had something to do with your condition.”
Hawk met his friend’s gaze levelly. “Even if I was no longer in the military, I was under orders, and I took a job. I’ve told you everything.” He’d had a hell of a fight on his hands when he’d taken in Meyer’s men, and he’d won, although Meyer had not been present. Which was why Hawk had hunted him down after Colton’s marriage. Now he had to do it all over again.
Quinn studied him, no expression crossing his hard face. “You just told me the rest of it.”
The door opened, and a bundle of pure energy careened into the room and leaped for the bed. “Uncle Hawk.”
Hawk grinned and scooted over for Layla Lodge to scamper up the bed and pat his face. The girl was Jake and Sophie’s oldest kid and only daughter. So far. “Hey, sweetheart.”
She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Your face is huge. It looks like a blowfish without the blue color.”
Hawk studied the girl, suddenly regretting his time away. She was growing so fast and had just celebrated her ninth birthday. Her dark hair was twisted in braids that enhanced her delicate bone structure and stunning dark eyes, her heritage evident in every fragile line. “How’d you get here?”
“Great-grandpapa brought me.”
He straightened. “Chief Lodge?” The chief of the Kooskia Tribe had been on an extended Alaskan cruise for a month, and Hawk hadn’t realized he’d returned home.
“Yep.” Layla patted his cheeks again. “But he had to go to a meeting and said to tell you to get better and not be mad at Dawn. Uncle Quinn is supposed to take me home.”
Hawk smiled. “I’m not mad at Dawn.”
Layla leaned forward, her small lips pursing. “Are you sure? Grandpapa said Dawn tried to poison you because you’re, ah, a numb nuts.”
Hawk coughed out, “Excuse me?”
Layla nodded, braids swinging. “Yep. He said that you’ve sat on your hands long enough and it’s about time Dawn did something to get your attention. Even if it did almost kill you.”
Layla nodded. “I know. Aunt Dawn wouldn’t try to hurt you on purpose. Though are you done sitting on your hands?”
Hawk sputtered out a non-answer, hoping Quinn would intercede. “Quinn?”
The sheriff leaned forward and tugged on one of Layla’s braids. “Well? I’m with Layla and the chief. Have you stopped sitting on your hands?”
…
Dawn sat in the empty hospital waiting room, her head back against the wall, her eyes closed. The plastic chairs were about a hundred years old and scratched her legs, even through her jeans. Early Christmas music played from the speakers, and the too-strong scent of disinfectant almost burned her nostrils. Quinn had been joking when he’d said he wanted to take Hawk’s statement, right? Nobody in his right mind would think she’d tried to harm Hawk on purpose.
“Oh my, oh my, oh my,” a voice twittered, coming closer.
Well, hell. Dawn opened her eyes to see Mrs. Hudson beelining for her with a limping Mrs. Poppins on her heels.
“You tried to kill him,” Mrs. Hudson said, dropping her birdlike frame into the adjacent seat as she removed a plastic head cover from her hair. “What now?”
Mrs. Poppins, in bright purple snow boots, remained standing, favoring one foot and wringing her bony hands together. “What now? She’s broken rule number three. More importantly, we can’t get her a man if she’s in prison.” She took the chair on the other side of Dawn, her lilac perfume soothing. “Oh, sweetie. Killing them is never the answer.” She pursed her lips. “Well, it’s almost never the answer.”
Mrs. Hudson nodded and patted a startling spiral of sparkles down her bright blue pants. Even her green ski-jacket had yellow stones decorating the collar. “Listen. We can provide an alibi, right? If you have an alibi, they can’t send you to prison.”
Mrs. Poppins shook her head. “Alibi? Like what?”
“I’ll take the rap. Say I traded the glaze for one with strawberries.” Mrs. Hudson’s wobbly chin firmed, and she sniffed. “Yes. That’s what we’ll say.”
Mrs. Poppins leaned around Dawn. “Why would you do that? I mean, you need a motive, right?”
Mrs. Hudson bit her lip. “Yes. Lust. Unrequited lust. I’ve wanted Hawk Rain”—she wrinkled her nose and coughed delicately—“in my bed for years. He’s quite, ah, um, sexy?”
Dawn dropped her chin to her chest. This wasn’t happening. “I appreciate the help, ladies, but I’m pretty sure Hawk won’t press charges.” Unless he thought she’d poisoned him on purpose because of his stubbornness. “Mrs. Poppins? Why are you limping?”
“Ah, well, dear. I’m limping because I was, ah, helping Patty here stalk sweet Hawk. I fell on ice in his driveway trying to see into his window.”
Dawn lifted an eyelid and glanced to the side. “You did not.”
Mrs. Poppins shifted on the chair, color filtering through the papery skin on her face. “Well, we weren’t checking out his place because of, you know, the lust. We were just dropping by to have a nice chat with him and take him some cookies baked by you, and I slipped on the walk.”
Dawn sat up, her stomach twisting. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” She sniffed. “Turned out you had just poisoned him. We heard the call come over the police scanner in Patty’s car once we discovered Hawk wasn’t home.”
Dawn sighed. “I thought Quinn confiscated that scanner.”
Mrs. Hudson shook her head. “He did, but he didn’t have a legal reason to do so, and my lawyer told him exactly that.”
Dawn bit back a grin. “Was Jake your lawyer?”
“Of course, sweetie. Jake is everyone’s lawyer.” Mrs. Hudson patted Dawn’s hand. “It was quite enjoyable seeing your brothers go toe-to-toe for a moment, but Jake had to do his job since I hired him, and Quinn had to listen because he’s a good sheriff.”
Dawn rubbed her nose. “Did you mention cookies?”
“I baked them and was gonna tell Hawk you did so.” Mrs. Hudson shook her head, her lips turned down. “Now you’ve broken three rules. Please tell me you’re not still giving it away.”
Dawn sputtered, her face heating.
“Oh good Lord,” Mrs. Poppins twittered. “Stop having the sex with that man.” She patted her huge purse in her lap. “All we have left is for him to rescue you, and for you to pretend to give him control and chase him until he catches you.” She leaned around Dawn again to face Mrs. Hudson. “We might have to up our game.”
“No.” Dawn shook her head and stood, her knees wobbling. “No more game, no more upping. Please. I don’t need rescuing, and I’m not chasing any man, even Hawk.”
Mrs. Hudson nodded, approval glimmering in her faded eyes. “That’s the spirit, girl. Don’t let ’em know you’re coming.”
Dawn tried to concentrate and not scream. “Do you ladies need a ride home?”
“Of course not.” Mrs. Hudson pushed to her feet. “Instead of, well you know, next time you and Hawk get hot and heavy, I mean if he doesn’t press charges, just tease him a little. Don’t give him all the goods. Just enough to make him crazy. It works with Henry every time.”
Dawn backed away. “Arg.”
Mrs. Poppins nodded and also stood. “Yes. Blue balls can make a man see reason and darn quick.”
Oh God. “I, uh, will see you later.” Dawn pivoted and all but ran down the corridor, her mind filled with blue and balls. She would have to pour bleach in her ears now to get rid of what she’d just heard.
She all but ran into Quinn and Layla in the hallway. Layla threw both arms around her waist. “Aunt Dawn. Don’t worry, Uncle Hawk is just fine, and he’s not even mad at you. I made sure.”
Dawn grinned and planted a kiss on the top of the girl’s head. Man, she was getting so tall and so fast. “I appreciate the help.”
Quinn stood apart, black eyes veiled, big and broad in jeans and a T-shirt with a badge at his belt. He reached for Layla’s hand. “You and I have a lunch date tomorrow, Dawn Eleanor.”
Dawn lost her smile, and her throat clogged. When her big brother used both her names, he was feeling serious. He wouldn’t want to talk about her and Hawk, right? She couldn’t talk about sex with Quinn. Ever. “I have work, Quinn.”
He lifted one dark eyebrow, a look that had probably intimidated more than one suspect through the years. “You need to eat lunch, too.”
She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes. Quinn Lodge might be the sheriff and former badass soldier, but he was also her brother and the guy who’d taught her to fight. “I’ll think about it.”
“Dawn.” One word, said with perfect intent.
She sighed. Quinn would hunt her all over town until he found her, and then they’d have lunch. “Fine. You’re buying.”
He nodded. “I assumed.” Then he ducked his head to look at his niece. “Layla, let’s go grab something to eat. Big burgers and milkshakes.”
“Awesome.” Layla took his hand and led him down the hallway. “Since it’s the weekend, I don’t have school tomorrow. Maybe we should go to a movie.”
Dawn watched them go and then turned toward Hawk’s room. Steeling her shoulders, she crossed into the room and stopped short. Her mouth went dry. “What are you doing?”
He stood, jeans on but unbuttoned, drawing a shirt over his head. The hives had already nearly disappeared. The cotton covered his delicious chest, and he smoothed back his hair, deep green eyes focused on her. “Getting the hell out of here.” He tossed the hospital gown on the bed. “I spent enough time in the hospital last year, and I ain’t staying here one more second.”
She wrung her hands. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
He lifted his chin, his gaze unreadable. “Did you do it on purpose?”
“Of course not.” Hurt narrowed her focus so she just saw him
.
“I didn’t think so. It was an accident, Dawnie. Let it go.” He glanced down at his bare feet. “I don’t have my boots.”
No. He hadn’t been wearing boots, and she’d only had the chance to grab his shirt when the ambulance had arrived. “I forgot to get the boots,” she mused. Her eyes teared. “I really am sorry, Hawk.”
He reached her in one long stride and rubbed a thumb across her cheekbone. “It was an accident, and I should’ve checked the ingredients, too. No big deal.”
She shifted, heat flaring from his simple touch. “I know, but…” Shit. She felt so terrible. He could’ve died.
His upper lip quirked. “We both made a mistake, but if you need some punishment to feel better, I’m happy to oblige.”
She stopped thinking. Her body gave a head to toe shiver that landed in a place Hawk couldn’t see, but she felt. “Excuse me?” She aimed for haughty but only managed breathy.
He moved in, all heated muscle and wild scent of man, somehow even closer than before. “You torturing yourself with guilt doesn’t work for me, beautiful. To feel better, you need some release. I can help you out there.” One knuckle under her chin lifted her face to his. His green eyes sizzled with a predatory light, the atmosphere charging from the force of Hawk Rain. “Yes or no?”
“No,” she croaked out. Who the hell was this guy? She’d known. Deep down, she’d known Hawk owned an edge she hadn’t experienced. Yet it called to her. So she breathed out, trying to appear sophisticated, “You kinky sonuvabitch.”
He smiled then—a slow movement of full lips, one that turned her insides squishy and aware. “You have no clue, Dawnie. Stop feeling guilty and torturing yourself, or I’ll make sure every time you try to sit down for the next week, you feel all sorts of forgiveness.”
She blinked. Heat slammed between her legs.
He leaned down and brushed a light kiss across her lips. “Now you’re taking me home.”
She turned her back to him, her heart racing. “How do you know I didn’t mean to poison you?” she asked, trying for a level conversation.
His deep chuckle stirred her hair. “Because if you wanted me dead, Dawn Eleanor Freeze, I’d be dead.”
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