Hawke shook his head slightly. “I’m not sure…it was just always there. I mean, when we were kids, we were best friends, but as we got older, I never had any interest in anyone else and neither did she.”
“So you were never attracted to another woman?”
“I noticed them, but that was as far as it went. No one even came close to making me feel the way she did.”
“What about men?” I asked cautiously.
“Do you mean was I attracted to them?”
I nodded.
Hawke was thoughtful for a moment. “I suppose I noticed if a guy was good looking or not, but no, I wasn’t attracted to them.”
“Does it bother you?”
“What?”
“Being with me?” I asked quietly, dropping my eyes. “I mean, you’re not gay and it sounds like you aren’t even bi.”
I felt Hawke’s fingers leave my head and lift my chin so that I was once again looking at him. “I’m not big on labels,” he said. “People have been labeling me my whole life and it didn’t mean shit.” Hawke’s finger traced over my lower lip. “You’re beautiful, Tate…but that isn’t what has me wanting more of you.”
I felt my stomach drop out at Hawke’s words.
“You’re kind, even though all you’ve known is cruelty. You’re strong despite all the times people have tried to break you. You gave up everything for that little boy from the second you saved him and you’ve been the father he needs and deserves despite not having had that yourself. I’m in awe of you, Tate Travers.”
I swallowed hard around the knot of emotion in my throat and shook my head because I couldn’t come up with even one single thing to say to that. I’d thought it had only been about physical attraction for Hawke, but to know he saw more than that…
Hawke’s hand returned to my hair and we both fell silent for a while. But I couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to know more about him so I said, “You said the house behind yours was your uncle’s.”
Hawke nodded. “It was mine too growing up.”
“You lived with him?”
“Yeah, my mom and I moved in with him when I was eight. She died a few months later.”
“What happened to her?”
“She had a brain tumor…inoperable.”
I shook my head. “Hawke…”
“It’s okay,” Hawke murmured. “It was a long time ago.”
“What about your father?”
“Never knew him. He worked on oil rigs and was killed in an explosion shortly after I was born. My mom and I moved from Louisiana to Wyoming when she found out she was sick.”
I remembered Hawke’s story about his first day of school. “It was bad, wasn’t it?” I whispered. “Living with your uncle.”
Hawke’s fingers stilled in my hair. He finally nodded.
“Will you tell me?” I asked.
His eyes held mine for a moment and then shifted away. I could see the pain in them so I quickly said, “You don’t-” but Hawke cut me off by placing a finger over my lips.
“After my mom died, he made sure to remind me on a daily basis that he didn’t want me.”
“He hurt you,” I whispered.
Hawke nodded. “He drank a lot so after he smacked me around, I’d wait till he passed out and then I would crawl out of my window and walk through the woods to Revay’s house. She always left her window unlocked and I’d get into bed with her…we were still kids back then so it wasn’t more than her comforting me while I cried. After a while, I started going to her house every night. On the days where my uncle beat me so bad I could barely walk, she’d come to me.” Hawke let out a pain filled laugh. “It was years before her parents found out. They were pissed and tried all sorts of things to stop her from sneaking out. But like I said, she was stubborn.”
Hawke’s next laugh was lighter and a small smile drifted across his mouth. “They finally gave up and set up a room for me and stuck a ladder outside the window so I wouldn’t have to climb the big oak tree outside Revay’s window. By the time I was fourteen, I was practically living with them full time.”
“What happened to your uncle?”
“He got drunk one night and wrapped his car around a tree. I’d just turned eighteen so I didn’t have to go into foster care or anything. Revay and I graduated a few weeks later and got married. We moved to Fort Benning in Georgia and she went to college to get a degree in music while I was going through basic training.”
“What happened after you lost her?” I asked. “You’d left the army, right?”
“I re-enlisted about a year later. I…I couldn’t sit around knowing the men who’d done that to her were walking around free. I left the army again about six years ago.”
I nodded in understanding. I was about to ask another question when my phone rang. I sat up, but Hawke beat me to it and climbed out of bed. “I got it,” he said and he grabbed my phone from my pants which were still laying in a discarded heap on the floor next to my torn shirt. I smiled at the memory and when Hawke came over to the bed to hand me the phone, there was a little smirk on his face that told me he was remembering the exact same thing as me. He leaned down to kiss me before handing me the phone.
I saw that the caller was Ronan and felt the automatic pang of fear go through me that I always did when he called. I’d talked to Matty earlier in the day and he’d been fine, but I couldn’t get past my fear that one day I was going to get the call that things were no longer fine.
“Hi,” I said after hitting the answer button. “Is Matty okay?”
“Hey. He’s doing good, Tate.”
Relief went through me and I glanced at Hawke who was in the process of moving his bag to the bed, probably so he could get his tablet out so I could video chat with Matty.
“Tate, I just wanted to give you a heads up about something before you talk to Matty.”
The relief I’d felt a moment ago disappeared instantly. “You said he was okay,” I whispered. Hawke appeared at my side with his tablet.
“Put it on speaker,” he said quietly.
My hand was shaking so Hawke took the phone from me and did it himself. “Hey Ronan, you’re on speaker, okay?”
“Hey,” Ronan responded. “Tate, honestly, Matty’s okay. It’s just that his hair started falling out over the past couple of days and we talked him into shaving it off this morning. I wanted you to know before you saw him so it wouldn’t be so much of a surprise.”
I felt tears sting the backs of my eyes at the brutal reminder of what my little boy was going through. “Okay,” I managed to say.
“Give me a minute and I’ll start the video chat.”
“Ronan, call my tablet, okay?” Hawke said.
“Yeah.”
Ronan disconnected and Hawke put my phone away. “Hey,” he said as he settled his hand on my back and put his head against mine. “He’s okay. He’s strong, Tate. Just like his dad.”
I sucked in some air and nodded shakily. I blinked rapidly in an effort to clear the tears from my eyes. Hawke’s tablet began ringing a minute later and he held it in front of me and hit the answer button.
Matty was sitting cross legged on his hospital bed. I managed to keep my composure at the sight of his bald head, but inside I felt like I was dying. “Hey, buddy,” I said, my voice cracking. Hawke’s hand at my back had a soothing effect.
“Daddy, look,” Matty said as he pointed to his head.
“Wow, you look great,” I said with a big smile. “How are you doing?”
“Good,” Matty responded. “Guess what? Ronan says I look like Professor…” – Matty looked off-screen and whispered something, then nodded – “Xavier,” he said proudly, struggling with pronouncing the name. “He’s an X-Man, Daddy! He can read minds. Want me to read yours?”
I managed a nod. “Yeah, sure.”
Matty closed his eyes for several seconds and scrunched his face up. Then his eyes popped open and he said, “You miss me lots!”
I managed
to stifle my laugh and opened my mouth wide as if in shock. “That is exactly right! How did you do that?”
“Magic powers, Daddy. Is Hawke there? I want to read his mind too.”
Hawke moved the tablet so Matty could see him. “I’m here, Matty.”
Matty gave him a small wave. “Look!” he said as he pointed to his head again.
“You look just like the Professor,” Hawke said. “But no way will you be able to read my mind.”
“I bet I can,” Matty insisted.
“Okay, you can try,” Hawke said with a shake of his head, his doubt clear.
Matty once again got lost in thought, then opened his eyes and announced, “You miss me, too and you and Daddy are going to come see me soon.”
My heart hurt as I watched the fleeting pain in Hawke’s gaze as he looked at Matty. And I knew in that moment he was thinking about his own son. But he managed a smile and said, “Wow, you got it exactly right.”
Matty nodded knowingly and Hawke shifted the tablet so Matty could see us both. “Daddy, guess what?”
“What?”
“Ronan and Seth knew how sad I was when they said I wasn’t gonna have any hair for a while, so look.”
The image teetered for a moment and when it came back into focus, I slapped my hand over my mouth in disbelief. Because there on the bed next to my son sat Ronan and Seth, their heads completely bald.
“Hi!” Seth said with a wave.
“Isn’t it cool, Daddy?” Matty said as he put one hand on Ronan’s shaved head and the other on Seth’s. The men looked so different, but I barely noticed that. All I noticed were their big smiles as they proudly showed off their new look.
“It’s really cool,” I managed to get out. Tears were flooding my eyes and I was helpless to hold them back. When Hawke used his arm to pull me against his chest, I gladly went. I knew my son and Ronan and Seth could see me, but I was too busy trying to hold it together.
“Daddy?”
“He’s okay, Matty. He’s just missing you,” Hawke said quietly.
“Daddy,” Matty called to me, his voice low and sweet.
“Yeah, buddy,” I said as I pulled back from Hawke’s chest and wiped at my eyes.
“Love you lots.”
I let out a watery laugh. “Forever and ever,” I finished.
“Hey, Matty’s nurse is here to check his central line. We’ll talk to you guys later, okay?” Ronan said.
I nodded. “Thanks, Ronan,” I whispered as my eyes connected with the other man’s. I hoped he heard what I couldn’t put into words and when he nodded a moment later, I knew he had.
“Bye, Daddy!”
“Bye, Matty. I’ll be home soon, okay. Love you.”
“I love you too. Bye, Hawke.”
“Bye, Matty,” Hawke said quietly.
The screen went dark a second later and I instantly lost it and began crying. Hawke gathered me in his arms and lay down on the bed, taking me with him. I curled against his side and sobbed as he held me tight. It was several minutes before I quieted enough to say, “Thank you, Michael.”
Hawke’s arms tightened around me even more when I said his name.
“For what?” he asked.
“For everything,” I said simply.
Hawke was silent for a moment and then he was rolling me onto my back as he hovered above me. His hand came up to cup my face. “I wish I could give you more, Tate. I wish I could be everything you needed.”
And then he sealed his mouth over mine.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hawke
“Here.”
I put down the towel I’d been using to dry my hair and took the picture Tate handed me.
After kissing Tate last night, I’d pulled him back into my arms and held him until we’d fallen asleep. I’d woken up with him in almost the same exact position and had lain there for nearly an hour before I’d forced myself to release him and get out of bed. For the first time since we’d left my house three days ago, I wasn’t eager to start the day. Because by the end of it, Tate would be on his way home and I’d be alone again.
I looked at the picture and stilled when I saw the two men kneeling on the ground, rifles in hand as they held up the head of a dead deer with huge antlers. Both men were dressed in camouflage outfits, but it was their faces that I focused on. “Buck and Denny?” I asked.
Tate nodded. “I was just looking through the photos I had developed yesterday. They made me take this picture a couple of months before I left. I’d forgotten all about it.”
I glanced up at Tate and shook my head in disbelief. He’d made it clear that he didn’t want me going after Buck and Denny in Laredo, but he’d still given me the one thing I really needed to help me find them. “Thank you,” I said.
Tate nodded and I could see that he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned and left the bathroom and I turned my attention back to the picture. Pain slashed through my belly as I took in the faces of the men who’d brutalized my wife and murdered her and my son. Buck looked nothing like what I’d imagined in my head. He was remarkably clean cut and good looking for his fifty odd years. He was a large man, but clearly took care of himself. But his eyes were cold and empty and my gaze fell to his big hands. Hands that had rained down on Tate’s body over and over again. Hands that had held my wife down…
I shook myself loose from my thoughts and focused on Denny. He looked nothing like Tate as I would have expected. His grimy blond hair was long and stringy and his pockmarked skin was drawn tight over the sharp bones of his face. Like Reggie, the years of drug addiction had taken their toll on Denny and he almost looked as old as his father. And like his father, there was nothing in his dull eyes.
I put the picture down on the counter and lifted my eyes to look at myself in the mirror. My gaze fell to Revay’s words and I let my finger trail over each sentence as I read them to myself. But it wasn’t her voice I heard in my head. Not Tate’s either. It was my own. And it wasn’t Revay I was thinking of when I finally reached the last word.
* * *
“Yeah, thanks Daisy. Let me know what you find.”
I hung up the phone and reached for my bag when I noticed Tate standing near the entrance to the bathroom. I hadn’t heard him come out as I’d been speaking to Daisy about seeing what she could find on Ricardo Davos. But I could tell from Tate’s worried look that he’d heard me talking to her.
“Does she work for you?”
“Who? Daisy?” I asked, focusing my attention on getting my bag repacked. My fingers hit on the picture of Revay and I realized it had gotten buried near the bottom of the bag.
Because I hadn’t looked at it even once since the night I’d begged Tate to say my real name for the first time.
“Yeah.”
“No, she works for Ronan.”
“Do you work for him, too?”
I knew we were treading on dangerous ground so I said, “We should get on the road so you’ll be able to drive over the pass tonight before it gets too dark.”
The idea of watching Tate drive off caused a pain so sharp in my chest that I actually had to stop what I was doing so I could try to catch my breath. I heard Tate moving around behind me, but I didn’t turn around as I grabbed my bag and left the room. I tossed my bag in the backseat of the truck and got it started. Tate appeared a moment later and climbed in beside me.
“You hungry?” I asked.
Tate didn’t look at me. He just shook his head. I drove the truck across the street to a fast food place and ordered him a breakfast sandwich anyway, along with some coffee, but neither of us touched our food. Lunch was a repeat of breakfast, but when I told Tate he should try to eat something, he sent me a pained glance before turning his attention back out the window.
We were making good time until we hit rush hour traffic in Denver and then a major traffic jam on one of the mountain passes that added several hours to our trip. The sun had just started to set behind the mountains when
we finally pulled in front of my garage. Tate was out of the car the second it rolled to a stop. I got out and went around the truck to watch him pulling his bag from the backseat. He began rifling through it for a moment and then pulled the car keys for his rental out of one of the inner pockets. I’d parked his rental car next to the garage so I had no trouble seeing him as he went to the car, opened the trunk and tossed his bag in. My chest felt like it was going to explode as he walked around it to the driver’s side and I realized he was actually going to leave without speaking to me. It took everything in me not to move forward and stop him. To demand he say something…anything that said these last three days had meant something to him…that they’d changed him the way they’d changed me.
But I couldn’t ask that of him. Because even though being with Tate had changed me, it hadn’t changed what I needed to do. It hadn’t changed the fact that I couldn’t let go of the one thing that I would need to in order to be with him the way I wanted.
Tate reached the door, but didn’t open it. He just stood there staring at the handle like he didn’t know what it was for. He finally looked up at me and even from where I stood, I could see the agony in his eyes. I moved a few steps forward without even thinking about it, but stopped myself when I was still several feet away.
Because if I touched him…
“She wouldn’t have wanted this for you,” Tate said so softly, I barely heard him.
But I did hear him. And I knew who she was. I couldn’t help the flash of anger that went through me. “You have no idea what she would have wanted. You didn’t know her.”
Tate shook his head and dropped his eyes again. “Don’t you get it, Hawke?”
I flinched at the use of my nickname…it sounded wrong coming from his lips after all the times he’d called me by my real name.
“Get what?” I asked.
“I know her because I am her.” The strange statement made no sense to me, but I held my tongue as Tate turned to face me.
“I love you,” he finally said and I felt my heart drop out of my chest. “I love you like she loved you. With everything I am. And that’s how I know she wouldn’t have wanted this life for you.”
Retribution (The Protectors, Book 3) Page 18