Hawk

by Amber Malloy

  “I’ve got it. Go out back and talk.”

  Without another word, Lexi stomped her way to the kitchen. She had a business to run…not the one she wanted but she was still in charge. Lexi snatched the bar rag from the waistband of her jeans and threw it on the kitchen counter.

  “There’s my baby!” Peaches called out.

  Obviously angry but not silly enough to ignore the sweetest woman on this planet, Hawk stopped at the stove to hug her. Instead of waiting for the lovefest to end, Lexi flung open the back door.

  The general stink of garbage and piss didn’t smack her in the face, which was unfortunate, as she could have used the funk to fuel her anger.

  From the moment Maureen had called her again, she had to rein in her emotions. Robotic almost in her actions, she needed to keep everything simple in an effort not to lose her shit.

  Hawk stepped out of the kitchen and slammed the door shut behind him.

  “You moved out?” Hawk held his muscled body in a tight, unyielding manner.

  “It was a temporary fix.” She batted away his concerns with an eye roll.

  “A little notice would have been nice.”

  “The door’s fixed.” She chucked her thumb over her shoulder at the shiny steel model. With a level of rage she’d never witnessed from him before, Hawk kept his hooded eyes trained on her face.

  “And my calls… What’s your slick reply for dodging them?”

  “Well, I figured talking really wasn’t our thing.” Lexi slipped her phone out of her back pocket and fiddled with her screen. “Because I would have told you not to do this…” She held up her phone for Hawk to get a good view of him sitting next to Josh at a bar.

  “Ah…” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “That’s not what you think.”

  “Does it matter what I think. Do you care?” She waited for his reply but received nothing other than a steely stare back. “SugarTech board meets semi quarterly, but they’ve moved up the latest meeting to vote me off.”

  Raking his fingers through the long waves of his hair, he narrowed his eyes to small slits. “We were in the same town, and I popped in the restaurant where they were having a company party. The whole thing was purely coincidental. Nothing happened. Your ex left in one piece.”

  “That’s not what Josh says. Apparently, I sent goons to harass him, and since he has that restraining order against me, I’m now in violation of our company’s morals clause.”

  “How was I supposed to know?” he growled. “You’re not exactly an open book.” He shrugged his big, brawny shoulder at her without conveying one ounce of regret.

  Lexi had never pegged Hawk as that guy—the take no blame, shrink away from responsibility dude. However, Moe had told her to never put people on a pedestal. They almost always displayed their entire ass and fell off that bitch.

  Pissed at herself, Lexi grabbed the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath to collect the little bit of sanity she had left. “There’s a ton of things that you don’t know, but like every man, your ego won’t allow you to step the fuck back,” she said.

  “Are you serious?” He lowered his face, pushing it dangerously close to hers. “If I fall back any further, I’d be off the damn cliff.”

  The strain of holding up her body hurt, and the burden of her problems felt too heavy to hold. Little by little the pieces of her life had come together better than the hardest puzzle to show her how truly stupid she was. “That program Josh pushed me to create…you know the one that shares video that then disappears? He claimed it would be some cute thing for parties or games.”

  “Look, Lexi… I don’t care what the boy wonder wanted—”

  She held up her hand to shush him. “Once I got it to work, he wanted me to tweak it so he could sell it off to one of his frat brothers who was a private contractor overseas. I told him no, which for me was a rare flex, but once he heard those words, the next thing I got handed were divorce papers.”

  Hawk’s mouth moved but no sound came out. Breaking eye contact, he faced away from her. “Never have you once mentioned any of this. What? Am I too stupid to understand? Or maybe I was never good enough to share any of this with.”

  “Whoa.” She jerked back at the hard right turn Hawk’s logic had taken. “I don’t know where this shit came from, but trust me, none of your psychoses gives you any right to step in and take control of my life.”

  “Maybe I got tired of watching you go limp.”

  “Oh.” A slap in the face would have hurt her less. Stunned, Lexi had to shake the sting of his words off. “Is that what I’m doing?”

  “From what I can tell, yeah.”

  “After I found his bachelor pad and smashed it to shreds, Josh got a restraining order against me. Violence isn’t usually my go-to, but I was in shock—or at least that’s what the dude who ran my anger management class said. How’s that for limp?”

  Shoving his hands in his pants pockets, he gazed at a spot directly above her head. “Not in that way,” he muttered. “Look… I didn’t mean to—”

  “What? Insinuate that I’m weak sauce?” She tossed him a sarcastic grin. “Thanks to you, I handed Josh exactly what he wanted.”

  Trying to hold tough, Lexi fought off the tremble in her bottom lip and scrambled to grab the doorknob, hoping the inevitable tears that were aching to slip out didn’t fall until she got far, far away from him. Lexi yanked the door open. She’d been pathetic enough for one lifetime.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Nothing but the game pumped through his veins. Hawk glided across the ice, blocking his opponent’s every move. Crossing one foot in front of the other, he body checked his guy into the boards. Determined to push Lexi out of his mind or the role he played in the future of her company, he snaked the puck away from his adversary. The referee blew his whistle.

  “Get off my ass,” the defensemen screamed before he took a swing. The hit landed against the side of Hawk’s helmet. Relishing the ringing in his ears, the guy threw the next punch directly to his head.

  After they grappled with each other for a second, he got the upper hand and put the dude in a headlock. Using the full force of their weight, the refs attempted to get between them, but Hawk was already in full rage mode. It took a lot more punches and blood for two more refs to yank them a part.

  “Maze, out!” the ref screamed hot, angry air in his face.

  He wanted to rail against the little jerk-wad, maybe even take a shot at him. However, he didn’t want his career to end on such a shitty note.

  “Number eighteen, Hawthorne Maze, has been put out of the game!” the announcer called over the cheering crowd. “He’s been in the penalty box more this year than his whole career.” Hoping to get rid of that tight grip of pain that constricted his chest every time he thought of Lexi, Hawk left the ice.

  Surrounded by hateful words and boos, he walked to the locker room.

  “Fucking monkey!” someone yelled from the crowd. Tired of everything in general, he slammed his hockey stick against the partition and flicked off the entire stadium. As he held his middle finger high, the cheers grew by ten. What’s one more fine? Hawk figured.

  * * * *

  The streetlight beyond her window illuminated her tiny place. Lexi threw on her hoodie and looked around her apartment to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind. She didn’t know when she would be back. Patting down her pockets for her keys, she grabbed her travel bag and headed for the door. The vote was scheduled for the next week, but she’d decided to take a few weeks off, depending on the outcome.

  Grabbing the knob, she opened the door and looked one last time. Simone had already locked up for the night. Lexi hurried down the stairs to check the alarm system, but the plunk of the piano keys made her stop mid-step.

  Duke Ellington’s Slow Blues made its way to her stairwell. Nobody but Moe could be that smooth tickling the ivories. She smiled and continued down the stairs.

  The kitchen was dark. She left her trave
l case behind and pushed on the swinging door to the bar. At this time of night, most men his age would be in bed, but not Moe. Perhaps slower moving in every other aspect, he still played the piano flawlessly.

  She crossed the hardwood floor to her dad. He didn’t open his eyes when she popped a squat next to him on the bench. While his fingers worked magic on the piano, his head bobbed to the beat. He plucked the last few keys before he brought the song to a lovely, melodic end. Lexi clapped in appreciation.

  “That was great. Now what did you drag your ass down here to say?”

  He ripped a crusty cackle at her directness.

  Moe didn’t like phones. He considered music the best form of communication. Since he’d picked a mid-tempo song, she hoped this conversation would get straight to the point. “Do you remember how to play?” Moe asked.

  “Very little.” She hit the first chord of Chopsticks on her side of the piano, and he followed along. She laughed on their big finish. No one could tell her she wasn’t a prodigy.

  “This place.” He looked around the empty bar. “I was thinking about closing our doors for good before you saved it.”

  “Moe’s was still making money. I just gave it a little push.”

  “Yeah, but the fun was gone,” he admitted. “My friends are getting old and sick. Nobody wants to be the last one dancing when the party’s over.”

  That logic applied in a ton of areas in Lexi’s life, her marriage included.

  “The thing is you’re brilliant, and the only one who doesn’t see it is you,” Moe said.

  “Wow, this talk is turning into one hell of a morale booster.” She hit the piano keys in front of her in an ominous manner.

  “Yeah, afraid I was never good at that.” He leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him. “And your mom was even worse.”

  The unexpected jab at her mother caused an eruption of laughter to lift her spirits. The woman had never been the nurturing sort. Moe was by far the better parent of the two, which was probably the reason her mom had kept Lexi away from him. She’d claimed it had to do with those sketchy blues characters that were always around, but she knew the truth. Lexi had always preferred Moe, which meant her mother, Lorna, had made sure that no one would be happy except for Lorna.

  “Did I ever apologize for that, by the way?”

  “What?”

  Moe tickled out an unrecognizable tune, then glided into a soft jazz song she recognized but couldn’t name. “Wiggling you out of her grasp. Shit.” He placed his palms on the keys, forcing a blare of clashing notes. “Josh, that little…” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “Lorna made it easy for him to slither his way into your life.”

  “I’m not naïve!” Lexi defended herself. “Well, not totally.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying, but your mother made sure you knew how to work with less. Trust me when I say Josh was much less.”

  Even if he’d said anything about her ex at the time, the odds that Lexi would have listened to him were slim. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “Yeah.” He chuckled and went back to playing the piano. “I can see it now… Hey, Lexi, that boyfriend of yours is a manipulative little turd who doesn’t have one tenth of your genius.” Moe tinkered with a few confusing notes before he slid into Nina Simone’s Sinnerman. “Trust me. You would have married him even faster.”

  Lexi wished she could have placed blame on Lorna, but in all honesty, Josh was her fault and hers alone. Sure, she was an emotionally starved kid, but that only explained one aspect of her jumping into a pathetic-ass marriage. What is my excuse for everything else?

  “Look, old man… None of this is your fault. You did good by me back then—and even better now.” As he continued playing, she stood.

  “My point,” he said, finally glancing up from the keys, “is he can’t take shit away from you. Anything you made, you can make again. Josh needs you—and it’s never been the opposite.”

  Moe placed his open hand on top of the piano. Misty-eyed, Lexi placed her hand inside of his. By no means a cry baby, she’d spent this past year damn near in the fetal position.

  “Hawk is a good egg. Trust me. After that last one, I would warn you off if he wasn’t.” As another unexpected laugh burst free from her belly, Moe squeezed her hand. “Remember, baby gurl”—he went back to playing the piano—“the only thing Josh ever won was you. From here on out, it’ll be all downhill for him.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Hawk had to pay a fifteen-thousand-dollar fine, which was better than he’d imagined. However, the one-game suspension was an all-time low, even for him. Forced to sit with the coaching staff in an uncomfortable suit, he had a whole different perspective on humiliation.

  Wrapping his tie around his fist, he shoved it into his pocket before he strolled through the hotel lobby. The team had a couple of days off, and he didn’t need to be at practice until tomorrow. Two games into the playoffs, the Northern Royals had barely scraped by, no thanks to him. In the fight of their lives over the championship title, they needed to win the next two games.

  “Hey, big guy.” Hawk dropped his head back with a groan. Knox and Andre stood near the restaurant entrance. “Come on. Let’s get this over with,” Knox said.

  Obviously one minute of peace was too much to ask. Against his better judgment, he followed them into the dining area. While he remained standing, they took a seat at the corner table.

  The waitress arrived at the same time with a tray of drinks. “How long have you guys been here?” he huffed.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Knox grabbed his bottle of beer and slid into his seat. “Hope you want nachos, because Andre already ordered a vat of them.”

  “When was the last time you guys flew out for one of my games?” Hawk asked, pulling his glass of iced tea closer, wishing it were a beer.

  “It’s been a while,” Knox admitted.

  “Never.” Andre shook his head in disgust. “And I probably wouldn’t be here now, but Knox made me come.” His face twisted down while he fashioned his napkin into a bib. “Moral support or some such shit.”

  “Welp, you two showed support. Now get gone.” Hawk nodded to the door.

  “Come, come… Tell us where it hurts.” Knox patted the empty chair with a chuckle.

  Rolling his eyes, he pulled back the seat and plopped down.

  “There’s no need for a weak ass ‘we’re here for you’ pep talk. I’m fine.” He picked up the menu and thumbed through it without any real intentions or thought.

  “Man, I just came to tell you how proud I am,” Andre offered.

  “Don’t start,” Hawk muttered, not in the mood for Andre’s bullshit.

  “No, really.” He thrusted his phone past Knox in front of Hawk. The video played his latest fight on the ice. “This has got to be one of my proudest”—Andre pretended to wipe away tears—“moments in our entire friendship. I mean, you finally elevated from ballerinas on skates to WWE on ice.”

  Despite his foul mood, he smiled. Andre couldn’t be a bigger dick, but the asshole had always managed to show up for him.

  “Okay, okay.” Knox shoved Andre’s hand out of his face. “Now that we got that crap out of the way…”

  “Literally,” Andre sniffed. “This is the first time I ever considered you Black.”

  I stand corrected. The man can be a bigger dick. Cracking his first chuckle in days, he leaned back in his chair and waved on the criticism. “Let me have it. I’m a screw-up, and why am I flushing everything I worked so hard for down the toilet, yada.”

  “That’s not why we’re here.”

  “Then—” The waitress dropped a huge vat of nachos on the table, interrupting them.

  “Thanks,” Andre said, reaching for the platter and diving in.

  “This is difficult for us, but the wives—” Knox began before he reached for his beer and took a hard drag from the bottle.

  “What?” He was afraid something terrible had
happened, and his heart pounded in his chest. “Is everyone all right?”

  “Well, not if you don’t make up with Lexi.”

  “Huh?”

  “They’re going to fucking kill you.”

  “Is this seriously why you flew out to the middle of… Where are we?”

  “Texas,” Andre mumbled over a mouth full of food. “And before you say we’re pussy whipped, we agree—and that’s why you have to make up with her.”

  “Yeah, you know we don’t meddle or care who you’re with, but she’s the only one they’ve liked in—”

  “Ever,” Andre said. “She’s the only one—and trust me, man. You’d rather we give you this talk than the wives.”

  “My personal business isn’t off limits, I take it.” Hawk stared at his tea, once again wishing it were a beer.

  “This is an actual quote from Remington Bell Knox.” His best friend reached into his suit jacket and pulled out his phone. Flipping through his apps, he cleared his throat.

  “Hawthorne Maze, Lexington Waters is the only woman smart enough, funny enough and awesome enough to win you—and most importantly us—over. If there is an ounce of regret rolling around in that big head of yours, do all of us a favor and go get her. Pretend it’s one of those stupid eighties movies you love and just go.”

  “Well, hell,” he muttered.

  “Fight against that abandonment instinct…you know, that whole ‘leave them before they leave you’ shit that you’ve got going for yourself.” Andre licked the nacho juice off his fingers. “Hey, should I gamble on the wings?”

  “Okay, this is turning into some kind of intervention, and I’m not here for that crap.” Hawk tried to put a stop to their hate fest.

  “Or,” Andre grunted, “should I just wait until we get back to Chicago? Also, you know you can’t go to Moe’s anymore because…” Andre shrugged and signaled for the waitress. “Which would be sad because that’s still our hangout.”

  “What the hell? You only went because of me.”

  They nodded their heads in what he assumed was pity, although he honestly felt that Andre was still trying to figure out what he wanted to eat. He always checked out of conversations once he had his say.