WYLDER

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WYLDER Page 72

by Kristina Weaver


  “I know.”

  “So, I stuck around, no matter what Mom and Dad said. I wasn’t gonna just stop loving her because she wasn’t perfect anymore, and it pissed me off that they thought I should just walk away. Daisy…her family stuck her in this shitty, cheap care home, and I hated that. They didn’t care for her like I wanted them to. I was determined not to abandon her the way her loved ones had, because she was mine and you don’t just jump ship because things aren’t perfect. But see, my parents, they had plans, and hanging around Daisy all day every day was not part of the brief. So, Mom and Dad made a deal with me. They said they’ll pay for her to go to a good place where it’s clean and the staff are good and Daisy will be happy. If I let her go and enlist like every Paton before me did.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t really a choice, ya know? If I hung around, she would stay in that shithole and have me, but if I left, she got to be somewhere nice. And it wasn’t even as if she knew me, ya know? She was…not there most of the time. So, I walked away. I made the choice to put her before my own feelings and give her what I could, even if it hurt. I walked, and they fulfilled their promise and put her in this great place down in Florida. It was nice. I stayed away for five years and did what I’d promised. Moved up the ranks and made my family proud. Fought, got a few medals for bravery, but I never stopped thinking about her, and you know, I loved her. I still loved her so fucking much I wouldn’t look at another woman even if I couldn’t have Daisy.”

  I can hear that, and despite my usually cold control, I feel my chest go tight with sorrow for him.

  “I finally cracked when I was twenty-four and went to see her when I came back on leave. I thought…hell, I don’t know, but all I did know was that I missed her and I couldn’t go another day without seeing her. Maybe she would never know me or be the Daisy I knew, but she was mine. You know what I found?” he asks, laughing humorlessly. “She’d died the year before, and my parents never said a goddamn thing. They just pushed it all under the rug because I was doing what they wanted and Daisy, she didn’t matter to them. This girl I loved, who I lost, was just gone.”

  “I’m so sorry, Brass. So sorry. That must have killed you.”

  “Nah. The day I walked did that, man. The rest was just more shit to shovel. I left the service a year later. You know that since you were already with me, but I never talked to my parents again. So, yeah. Today’s the anniversary of Daisy’s death, and I feel like shit, but you know what? It’s okay because I got to love her, even if it wasn’t for all that long.”

  Not that long? It was a breath of time that hadn’t even faded before he lost her, I think, swallowing the lump in my throat when he sighs and looks at me.

  “Mika is a fine woman. She’s been through hell, come out the other side, and made something of her life. You’re lucky to have her, to have seen her live and come to you. I don’t want to interfere, and I can’t tell you what to do or how to feel, but if you have any love for her, you don’t just throw that away. It only happens once for some of us. Cherish it.”

  I nod, too raw to speak, and spend the next hours thinking about what I want from my woman. I care about her a lot, and yeah, what we have is special and could be love and so much more.

  I want it to be more, and I want to look at her one day and see that she’s happy, that I’ve given her everything she could want. I just don’t know how to get over the hurdle of marriage.

  It is not just me being a prick. I know people see it as the ultimate commitment, but I’ve never wanted a piece of paper to speak something I think should be shown every day.

  I need time. Maybe with time I’ll get to a place where being with my girl will lead to everything else.

  Mika

  I roll out of bed and run for the bathroom, falling to my knees and puking so hard my throat gives a protest. Once I’m done and I feel my stomach subside, I fall to the tile and just breathe, ignoring the fever, the way my body feels drained, and the thoughts I have swirling in my head.

  I don’t feel well at all, not at all, and I’ve been like this for three days now, alternately pretending I’m okay or trying to ignore the warning signs that just should not be here.

  I am terrified to death right now, and I need Hawk to come home and comfort me because he’s…mine and I want him. I’m feeling like hell, and I’m scared that I need to go back to the doctor, and to make matters worse, I keep getting these creepy phone calls at all hours of the day with some freak breathing over the line before hanging up.

  Last night, I was ready to bolt because I swear I heard someone outside my bedroom window, and it scares the hell out of me to think that someone will come into my house while I’m sleeping and hurt me.

  I’ve been wary of freaking out about it and telling anyone because I know if I mention any of it to Lynx or Leila or just anyone, Hawk will stop whatever he’s doing and come home.

  Or worse. He’ll have to stay there, because I know this job is important and he can’t just leave. And he’ll worry. I don’t want him distracted when he’s in danger, so I haven’t said a word yet, hoping that ignoring the ass will make him lose interest.

  That’s not even my main concern now though, believe it or not, because as I’ve said and as the toilet is screaming, I’m not doing good, and I’m so scared that something is wrong that it’s making me antsy.

  Rolling to my feet with a moan, I struggle to the sink and brush my teeth, my eyes round when I look at myself in the mirror and see the pale cast to my skin.

  I dress for work, telling myself that I feel okay and it’s just a passing bug or the remnants of that virus I never fully shook. The sickness passes, thankfully, and I go into work feeling semi-decent, concentrating only on work and getting through another day without hearing from Hawk.

  By five I’m drained and ready to hit the road but also reluctant because, I swear to God, really, there was someone creeping around outside my window and I don’t want to go home alone.

  I want Hawk, I think, my eyes spilling over as I try to tell myself I’m being a baby.

  Baby…

  No, it’s not possible, I think, latching onto the crazy idea, even knowing it can’t be true. I know it can’t be true because I’ve already been through all this. I want to believe it though so bad because a baby would explain my symptoms just as well as an illness would.

  Rising shakily, I grab my purse and store everything away, about to leave when Pop walks in and sees me.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks immediately, his eyes narrowing. “One of them guys give you shit again, because this time it won’t be Lynx beating the shit outta a man. I’ll kill him.”

  I giggle and shake my head, adoring them all even in their violence and complete lack of respect for human life.

  “No, Pop, honest, no one’s giving me hassles.”

  “Then, why have you been crying, and don’t say you haven’t, girl! I can see it.”

  “I miss Hawk.” The excuse is as good as any and not a lie, so I don’t feel guilty when Pop hugs me and gives me a peck.

  “I know, girl, but he’ll be home soon. Now, you skedaddle and get yourself home. You need rest, Mika.”

  I so do. Maybe I’ll take the gun Hawk put into the safe and sleep with it. I refuse to be afraid, and I absolutely will not hide or cower, I think, kissing him and leaving a minute later.

  The drive is made too fast, my hands tightening on the wheel when I get home and have to leave the car. The house is silent when I walk in and lock the door, the absolute silence making my nerves jump as I slowly walk towards the kitchen and tell myself to calm down.

  I’m being silly! Honestly, there could be a million reasons I heard noises and shuffling outside last night, I tell myself, grabbing a steak from the fridge.

  I almost lash out and scream when hands surround me from behind, and I do twist, intending to go for balls, when a hand closes on my knee, and I look up into light-blue eyes.

  “Hawk! Goddammit, you
scared the hell outta me,” I yell, slapping his chest before flinging myself into his arms.

  “Hey, babe. Good to know you’re in fighting form when I’m not around,” he chuckles, palming my face to lay one hot as heck kiss on me.

  He doesn’t stop until I’m moaning and boneless, my only thought being him and the fact that he’s here with me and safe.

  “God, I missed you, woman,” he growls, kissing me again, and again, and again, because he can’t seem to stop.

  “M’too.”

  “Good, because that means you’ll be okay with me getting Lynx to give you time off,” he mumbles into my mouth, making me pause and push away.

  “What?”

  “You’re mine for the next week,” he crows, palming my ass to lift me onto the counter and push between my legs.

  “Uh, what are you talking about?”

  “You. Me. A cabin I have out in the woods. Long nights. No worries and definitely no clothes.”

  Um, now, I know that should sound romantic, but I just got through having a meltdown because some freak is calling me, and freaking out about the fact that I haven’t had my period and I’ve been sick for three days.

  I’m not feeling a romantic getaway right now, but neither do I want to say that when he’s grinning at me and touching my boobs.

  “You went behind my back and got me vacation time?”

  “Um.” He hesitates, and I giggle, can’t help it, because he never hesitates and the fact that he does makes me feel powerful.

  “Hawk.”

  “Okay! Yeah, I, uh, asked Lynx if he could spare you so I can have you all to myself for a week before I have to head out again. Give me a break, Meek. I haven’t seen you in four goddamned weeks. I missed you like hell, and I just had my first shower in what feels like forever,” he says gruffly, stroking my hair back across my shoulders. “I want some time with just you and me and no family calling or kids needing babysitting.”

  Okay. That’s sweet, and I want that too, but I promised Hawk total honesty, and I will give him that.

  “I haven’t had my period,” I say, wanting to clear this up before we go any further.

  Hawk stills, and I gulp down hurt when he stiffens and puts distance between us, his body language going on the defensive when he turns to look at me.

  “Don’t look at me like that! I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m optimistic because I’ve been hurling and my boobs feel like they’ve been pummeled.”

  God, am I hoping, I think, praying again that it’s good news and not something I’ll have to suffer through again.

  “Mika, I thought—”

  “I know, okay. I mean, I know what I said because that’s what the doctor said, and I can’t be sure, but I would be lying if I said I’m not hoping! And not just because I don’t want it to be cancer again but because…I want this,” I whisper, willing him to be okay with this.

  “We’ve talked about this, and you said—”

  “I did, and I meant it, but you can’t blame me for still hoping. I love you,” I say softly, keeping my eyes on his. “I do. I love you, and I want to have all those commitment things with you. Babies or baby and marriage and celebrating anniversaries. Is that so wrong?”

  He leans against the counter at the sink and stares out of the window into the creeping dusk, his shoulder tense and hard as he drops his head and finally turns it to me.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, and I know that hoping for a kid is better than hoping that it’s something else, but we’ve talked about this. What if it’s…”

  “I don’t think it is. I was cleared just weeks ago, remember, and the doc and I spoke about a whole lot of stuff from PCOS being a possibility right down to early menopause because my parts are wacked out. I don’t want to scare you by saying it, but I promised I’d shoot straight with you, screw the consequences, and here we are. I haven’t had my period, and I feel awful, and I hope…because I love you and I want this with you,” I choke, noting that he hasn’t once said anything about the L part.

  And that it doesn’t seem like he will.

  The rest of the conversation I won’t go into. I can’t, because it ends with him leaving while I sit in the kitchen for a long time and cry.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mika

  I feel worse than horse manure when I walk into the church for Falcon’s christening and pretend for all I’m worth that Hawk Wylder doesn’t exist. I’ve been through a whole range of emotions in the last three weeks, from anger and hurt to sadness to fury, and now it seems I’m stuck on murderous rage because the ass has not been around and he hasn’t called and when I finally managed to ask Leila about him, she told me that he was away.

  Working!

  Running away, more like, I think with raging anger, schooling my face when Rain comes to greet me and give me a hug. I’m here today only because Danny would be hurt if I didn’t show up, but honestly, I am not feeling it and I don’t have the energy to pretend I do. It’s been a hell of a few weeks, with me burying my head in the sand and just waiting things out.

  I’m still blood free and rocking the porcelain daily, go possible pregnancy, and I haven’t stopped stuffing my face either, which you can guess has made me best pals with that toilet bowl.

  It could just be comfort eating. I know, but I’m feeling happy telling myself I’m eating for two, and if it happens to be a massive monster tumor, then fuck the world! I’ll die fat and happy with a slice of cake in my grubby, defiant paw.

  “Oh, honey, are you okay?”

  “Fine. I think I ate something bad,” I lie, grimacing at Lyon, who’s caught sight of me and is stomping my way.

  “You look like shit.”

  “Thanks, big bro, I was just dying to hear that,” I snark, hugging him back.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just not feeling great. Ate Chinese last night and it tasted funny.”

  Lying is easier than I suspected, and I don’t know why I haven’t done it before, I think when his face clears and he grins.

  “Lay ate it too, and she puked like a champ after two chow meins and three spring rolls.”

  I roll my eyes at his grin because the man is just happy, even when things don’t seem great since he found out he’s gonna be a papa. Me, I know the evils of Chinese food on this stomach, and it is not good.

  I shoot the shit with him for a few until he guides me to a seat where Leila’s surreptitiously trying to dig out a huge candy bar and grin all the way through the ceremony, especially when Falcon is handed to Hawk and the fool looks fit to have a coronary.

  All too soon it’s done and pictures are being taken back at the Wylder house. I’m standing in the corner when he walks up and shuffles in front of me, his discomfort all too clear, especially when I look up and meet his eyes, defiant and feeling great about the trunk of my car and a tarp I saved after repainting the house.

  I could so vanish his body. I wonder if Lynx would help me or no. Deciding not to dwell on it, just in case I have a baby of his cooking down south, I glare at him, baring my teeth.

  “Go away, loser.”

  “Look, I’m sorry I haven’t called.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Mika.”

  “Hawk,” I snarl back, smiling because a few eyes have turned our way and I refuse to give him the satisfaction of proving that I’m a wreck.

  Not in front of everyone. Leila’s eyes narrow, but she settles when I fake laugh, and I get to snarl at him again when Falcon coos and everyone focuses on him instead.

  “We need to talk.”

  Oy, the broken record, I think, wondering if I could just nut-punch him once and tell people he fainted from the heat.

  “We did talk. You said some stuff that I didn’t like, and then you left because you’re a big baby. What else is there to say?” I ask, waving at Brass when he throws me a wink.

  “Are you…?”

  He seems to be struggling, and I enjoy the sight while
I sip a glass of water and for once ask my stomach to rebel. I’d like to puke all over his designer shoes and ruin his tailored suit.

  “Dunno.” I shrug nonchalantly, sighing as I check out the cuticles of my nails and high-five myself for oiling them to a sheen.

  “Goddammit. I need—”

  “To go away before I lose my temper and punch you. God, I don’t even know why I liked you.”

  And it’s true. Well, not completely, because I do know. He’s hot and sexy, and he’s a good guy. Sometimes. Whatever.

  “You love me.”

  My eyes feel swollen to twice their size when the words penetrate my brain, and I turn to glare at him darkly, so angry I really could hurt him and not feel a shred of guilt.

  “Really? You’re gonna throw that in my face when you can’t have your way?” I hiss, breathing deeply when he flushes and shuffles around, his hands shoved in his pockets.

  “I reacted badly.”

  “No. You reacted just like I hoped you wouldn’t but knew you would. That’s on me. But it’s all good, Hawk. I’ve been here with you before, and it’s not as if you weren’t clear about how you feel, so message received and on the bulletin board.”

  I’m grateful that no one is looking this way, because I can just tell ya, I don’t think I could control the way I’m glaring at him for all the tea in China right now.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I know that, and it’s the worst part! Hawk cares about me, so I know that he isn’t happy about hurting me, and I know that he’s ashamed of walking out.

  I just don’t want to care about it.

  “I know. Listen, let’s just…not think about it, okay? I’m not in a hurry to confirm or deny anything yet, and if I do, do it, then you’ll be the first one to know. I promise. For now…”

  I don’t know, but what I do is that I feel alone and I want just once for him to do or say something that isn’t about him being gruff and terse and playing to character.

  “For now, you could be sick and you’re putting off knowing because you want to believe something that probably isn’t true,” he says softly, his eyes holding concern and what I think may be regret. “You know, I was going to take you away—”

 

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