The Hawks_A Novel

Home > Other > The Hawks_A Novel > Page 13
The Hawks_A Novel Page 13

by SD Hendrickson


  “No. It’s just been a pretty shitty day. I’m covered in poison oak and my body feels like it’s on fire. And my right eye is almost swollen shut. But you can talk, though. What’s going on?”

  “No. It’s okay.”

  His voice didn’t sound okay.

  I sat up in bed, wincing at the contact with the sheets. “Did something happen with Mama again?”

  “No, it’s nothing. Don’t worry. It can wait. I’m almost to work anyway.”

  He seemed tired. Maybe he just needed more sleep. “You promise? Don’t try to bullshit me. I know how you like to—”

  “Geez!” He let out an exasperated laugh. “Don’t get all worked up again, Sarina. You make me feel like I’m ten sometimes.”

  “Well, you’ll always be ten to me.”

  “Yeah, well, then humor this ten-year-old and send me a picture. I want to see your face all fucked up.” I pictured his big grin as he teased me. I missed Tyson.

  “I love you and all, but there’s no way in hell I’m texting you a photo.”

  “Please?” he fake whined. “It’s not like I’ll print it out and put the picture on the fridge.”

  “That’s exactly what you’ll do. Or show it to people, starting with Cole.”

  “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “Yes, you would. No picture. Not happening.”

  “Fine,” Ty huffed. “So how the hell did you get poison oak anyway? I thought your job was all parties and dresses and shit. Did you sneak out of your bedroom window again? Fall into a big pile of poison oak?”

  “Hardy har har. And no. I didn’t crawl out my window. I use doors now—like a grown-up.”

  His laughter belted from the phone. “What happened then? Are you gettin’ freaky in the bushes with the guy you live with?”

  “Stop. I am not discussing this with you.”

  “Yeah, well, that topic went out the window literally”—he cracked up at his own pathetic joke—“when you decided to sneak out to meet my best friend. Didn’t even bother to tell me until I caught you naked in his truck.”

  “Tyson!”

  “Don’t Tyson me. I’m still traumatized.”

  “Stop!”

  “No, you don’t get to shut me up. You did this. And now I have to hear about it. Cole’s still pissed.”

  I closed my eyes. “I don’t feel like talking about him tonight, either. And you seriously should consider making new friends.”

  “Did you really just say that to me?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t. ’Cause this shit is on you, Sarina. Cole was my friend first. And you should’ve thought about that before you screwed him up in the head.” His words spewed heavy with emotion. “He knows about your boyfriend. And he’s pissed. I have to hear about it every damn time I see him.”

  Somewhere in the last thirty seconds, Tyson had stopped joking with me. The guilt bubbled up in my chest.

  “I’m sorry that you got put in the middle,” I whispered.

  “Stop, okay? I just want you to know that he has no plans to let you go that easy. He’s not givin’ up on you.”

  “But I’m already gone, Ty.”

  “Not to him you’re not. You know how crazy he gets about things that are his. Cole sees this as just some obstacle that needs to be fixed. And everything will go back to the way it was for him.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I spat. “You tell him to stay the hell away from me. You tell him—”

  “Sarina . . .” He let out a deep breath, cutting me off. “Look, I can’t talk anymore. I’m at work.”

  Maybe I’d irritated him. Maybe he just really had to go. Maybe the night work made him more tired than usual. Maybe I was just a shitty sister.

  “So umm . . . how is work?” I asked hesitantly. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s work, Sarina. I gotta go.”

  “Ty, I’m—” But the line went dead before I could finish my apology.

  I held the phone for a few seconds longer, digesting his words. Cole drove me insane. But I loved Tyson. This was so messed up.

  Sticking out my tongue, I clicked the camera on my new phone and sent the photo of my messed-up face to my brother as a truce. Maybe a weird way to offer my apology. But I knew he would understand the olive branch.

  His reply came a few minutes later. Looking good, Fancy Pants.

  The breath in my lungs released, but my chest still felt tight. Guilt didn’t go away that easily. I really was sorry. For tonight. For Cole. For everything. This just reiterated the vow I’d made to myself. I’d fix this for Tyson one day. I’d make life better for him too.

  Settling under the covers, the sheets scratched against my skin. The thin cotton hurt in ways that couldn’t be easily described, much like the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard. I needed a distraction. Pulling out my borrowed copy of Great Expectations, I laughed out loud at the irony. I don’t know why I chose this particular novel the other day.

  The old cover made a crinkle sound as I flipped open the book. I tried to focus on the words. I tried to forget the fabric grating against my legs. But I couldn’t block the torture from my mind.

  A knock came at the door. I let out a frustrated moan. I knew it was Javier. I’d told him not to come to my room, not to see me like this for his own sake. I wanted to keep the beautiful illusion alive. And to keep him safe from exposure. Anything this ghastly must be contagious.

  Pulling the door open just a crack, I peered through the opening. His smile lit up the hallway and my world suddenly felt bright. I’d missed him. His absence affected me like a sky full of dark clouds. I wanted to invite him inside. I wanted to kiss him after being separated for two days. I wanted so much more, but instead, I whispered, “You need to go.”

  “Let me come in, Sarina. I brought you gifts.” He held up a set of wine glasses and a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

  I rested my forehead against the doorframe, which led to the overwhelming desire to dig my skin into the wood in search of a little relief. I grumbled under my breath. Tonight couldn’t get any worse. Might as well have company. I could just look and not touch.

  I moved away from the door and let him inside my room. The cuffs of his light-blue shirt were rolled up to his elbows and his pants a little rumpled from sitting on the plane. I groaned inwardly seeing his business attire. He still looked this good after working and traveling all day while mine had ended in a batch of red whelps.

  “Oh, Sarina . . . you are—”

  “Hideous,” I muttered, shutting the door.

  “No, I was going to say—”

  “Unfortunate?” I gave a sarcastic laugh. “Don’t you say unfortunate. And don’t you dare call me hermosa, either.”

  Javier just winked and handed over one of the glasses. He held up the already-uncorked bottle of wine in my direction. “You are in need of a drink, hermosa.”

  Our eyes met on the last word. I wanted to grumble again in protest. But I couldn’t. He was so damn attractive. And sweet. And calm. And I really needed something good right now. Something to help the emotional fire burning beneath the physical one on my skin.

  “Thank you for coming to see me,” I whispered.

  “I wanted to see you, Sarina.” He smiled.

  Javier filled my glass as I sat back against the pillows on my bed. He took a seat in the tapestry chair that occupied the corner of the room by the double windows with plantation shutters. His gaze lingered on me for a moment, taking in all of the twisty red marks.

  I didn’t want Javier to see me in this state of imperfection. I was supposed to be the woman he visited like a special treat at the end of his day. But as we sat drinking in silence, the unspoken moment between us felt comfortable—flaws and all as we relished in the solace of nothing more than the other’s company and a good bottle of wine. It felt nice. Peaceful.

  “How was your trip?” I asked.

  “Long. But productive.”

  I nodded. He
never told me much about his role at the company. Not out of secrecy. I just don’t think he loved it enough to share with me.

  “I went to see Antonio before coming home,” he said, taking another drink. “I apologized for my grandmother’s behavior and he agreed to return on Monday.”

  “Really?” I gasped in shock. “He’s coming back?”

  “I offered him more money to continue working here. This will be the third time. But he wasn’t so easily convinced today. He’s a good man and honorable. Not knowing his name really insulted him. Lack of respect. I think this was worse to Antonio than the clipper incident. He’s willing to tolerate my grandmother on most days. Not many will. And it would take much longer to replace him. Antonio is worth more than just his services at the estate. I had to get him to agree to come back. Whatever the cost.”

  I pondered the information as I drank my wine. “Do you think it’s an act? Like, she pretends to not know his name on purpose?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know how much is on purpose and how much is old age. But I spoke with her this evening. She’s promised to refer to him by his name. And if she doesn’t respect him, Antonio has the right to ignore what she asks him to do.”

  “Whoa . . . ” I muttered. “Is that an option? If she calls me something other than Ms. Atwood, I can ignore her ridiculous requests—like harvesting poison oak to use as decorations?”

  His eyes filled with compassion. “I’m so sorry, Sarina. I don’t want to make excuses for her behavior. But I believe her mind is slipping. She doesn’t see things correctly sometimes.”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “I would agree. Her mind isn’t stable when it comes to her instructions. But I don’t know how to stop it. Flat out refuse? I tried to talk to her yesterday when I had my doubts. I was nice. I tried to explain. But she got hateful and had me doubting what I already knew.”

  “If you question her actions again, call me. Wait for me. Maybe I can diffuse the situation.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not a good idea. And you know it. She’ll put things together and know that I’m the one who told you. She’ll assume the worst about us.”

  “True.” He paused, letting out a deep breath as he rubbed his eyes. “I should tell you something. These moments of hers . . . they’re becoming worse. My uncle doesn’t want her to have any more parties at the house. He told my grandmother not to have this one. And the fundraiser. They fought about it before you came to work here. He thinks she’s too old to host something that big. They fought about it again last week.”

  “I . . . don’t understand. What are you saying?”

  “I’m trying to say that I know this job is important to you. But I don’t know how long it will last. Maybe only as long as you can handle her. You must learn to undermine my grandmother’s demands without her knowing. Make things go smoother. That’s the only way for you to continue working here. Or my uncle will interfere. He’s tired of fighting her. Tired of her being in control. He wants to do something about it. Permanently.”

  “What does that mean?”

  His eyes went to mine. “Ted wants to take court action and declare his mother incompetent. He would be in control of everything. He would be in control of her.”

  “Wow.” I took another sip, letting the red wine settle on my tongue as I contemplated the meaning of his words. This job was temporary at best. And then I would be back to where I started unless I learned ways to prolong my time. I needed the fundraiser to happen or I couldn’t add it to my résumé.

  “So if I don’t please her, she’ll fire me. But if I let her actions get too out of line and she continues to argue with Ted, he’ll intervene and I’ll end up a casualty of their feud. Your uncle will let me go?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “He wants to put her in a retirement facility. The really nice one across town. And with her gone, my uncle could move back to the estate himself.”

  “Why doesn’t he just live here now? Maybe the fighting would be less in person. This house is huge with plenty of room and he could stop his mother from doing things he doesn’t approve of.”

  “That’s not really an option.” He shook his head. “My grandmother is aware of his . . . personal life. But she doesn’t acknowledge who he lives with outside these gates.”

  I stared at him a moment as the meaning of his words sunk into my thoughts. “Wait, are you saying . . . I had no idea.”

  “No one does. But that’s not his doing. My uncle has been in a relationship with a man named Franklin for about fifteen years now. She knows of their involvement but has forbidden him to be public. And his partner is not welcome at the estate. My uncle is furious with my grandmother. Sometimes, I think he may hate her even more than my father does. Yet every day, Ted respects her wishes when it comes to Franklin. But that respect stops at the gates. He refuses to visit her.”

  I swallowed the last of my wine as the pieces fell into place. All of the arguing I’d witnessed between the pair on the phone. But always on the phone. In fact, I’d never even met Ted. I’d just assumed he was busy. But that apparently was not the case.

  “So Ted would like to eventually live here with Franklin and be public with his relationship. But he can’t unless she dies or is put in a retirement home.”

  Javier nodded in agreement. “But there’s a bigger piece to this feud. My grandmother still holds an interest in the company. She even threatened to have the board remove him as CEO. She uses it to control her son. My grandmother stays away from the company and votes with Ted in all business dealings—as long as he gives her the respect she demands, which means no Franklin.”

  “She’s just so . . . so . . . horrible sometimes.”

  He smiled solemnly. “Ted has spent many years respecting her wishes and it’s eaten away at him. I think he would like to take over the estate while she’s still alive as a way to taunt his mother. My uncle hasn’t said this out loud to me, but I believe it is true.”

  “I feel sorry for your uncle. But at the same time, I don’t want to lose this job, either.” I groaned at the irrational and screwed-up situation.

  “I’m sorry, Sarina. My family is quite the mess.” Javier shrugged. “So many things hinge on my grandmother. I think my father might even visit if my uncle was in control. Bring my sisters.”

  “Really?”

  “Sí.” Javier got up from the chair, bringing the bottle of wine over to me. He filled my glass before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

  “You shouldn’t get this close,” I whispered.

  “I’ll be fine. And I have another gift.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small plastic green container. “When I spoke with Antonio, I told him of your adventures yesterday. His wife Rosa gave me this. Something she swore would cure your rash better than any doctor.”

  I smiled, taking it from him. “That was very sweet of her. Maybe I can send a thank-you note when he returns on Monday.”

  “That would be nice. Now let me help you.” Javier took the container from my hand. “Turn around.”

  “No, you can’t actually touch me. Do you have a death wish?”

  “I won’t take no for an answer, Sarina. You can’t even reach the places on your back.”

  I looked him in the eyes for a moment, gripping the stem of my wine glass. This man was not going to budge. Reluctantly, I turned around. His fingers pushed the straps of my gown until the fabric fell down around my elbows.

  Javier rubbed the cream on the top of my shoulders and into that terrible area I could never quite reach. The relief came almost instantly with a cool tingle.

  “That’s a magic potion,” I moaned, letting my eyes close in surrender.

  His hands moved over the tops of my arms, soothing my skin with every stroke. And then I felt the brush of his lips in the center of my back as he placed a kiss.

  I spun around, facing him. “What are you doing?”

  “I found a place that was not affected.” He smirked.

  “Don’t start th
is. The last thing you want is all of this. Down there.” I pointed at the front of his pants.

  He visibly winced. “You’re correct.”

  “Good. So no kissing. Or anything else.”

  “I understand. But you still need more cream here.” Javier dabbed a little on the tip of my nose. He teased me with a grin before placing a warm kiss on my lips. His mouth lingered for a moment before pulling away.

  A smear of white rubbed off on his cheek from my nose. I brushed it away with my thumb. The calmness spun in waves. He made the chaos inside disappear the way the magic cream did on the outside.

  Javier leaned forward and pressed another chaste kiss on my lips. I fought the urge to run my hands up his neck and cup his cheeks. Pull his mouth tight against mine. Give him a real kiss. I swallowed hard as my pulse heated up and I smiled at him.

  “Last one,” I whispered, letting my lips brush his one final time.

  He winked. “Last one.”

  Javier went back to smearing cream on my face. My eyes closed as I let him ease the pain on my skin. His fingers worked down my neck and then slipped under the lace trim of my nightgown to coat my breasts.

  I never thought a nasty rash could turn into something so sensual—a mix of pleasure and pain. I longed to feel him. To feed my addiction to his touch. But those desires would remain unquenched tonight. I was dead serious about not spreading this nasty rash all over his beautiful body.

  Javier pulled the straps of my silk gown back on my shoulders and moved to my legs. The bottle was almost empty by the time he finished coating my thighs.

  “Better?”

  I nodded. “Me gusta. Gracias. Sí.”

  He laughed at my attempt. “I can teach you actual sentences.”

  “You’ll just teach me dirty words.”

  “Maybe some of those too.” He smirked.

  A knock sounded at the door. It was firm and oddly out of place, considering my nightly visitor was already in my bedroom. I looked at Javier as the fingers of panic curled around my throat.

  “Bathroom,” I hissed. He walked quickly, trying to keep the expensive dress shoes quiet on the wood floor. Glancing around for any more evidence, I saw the Cabernet Sauvignon on my nightstand.

 

‹ Prev