The Hawks_A Novel

by SD Hendrickson

  “I don’t think so this time,” Ty whispered. “You didn’t see it. You didn’t see her.”

  A single tear ran down his cheek and my heart broke right in half. I fought back a sob. The feeling burned in my throat. I couldn’t do this after all. I couldn’t hold it together. Tears fell down my own cheeks as I watched my brother.

  He would always be ten to me. Even when his hair turned gray and he used a walker. That face would still be the boy who used to rely on me. I put an arm around his back, feeling the urge to protect him from the hurt and pain. From the things he couldn’t handle.

  When my family had first moved into my grandparents’ house, they only had two extra bedrooms, which left Ty and me to share the second. Grams hung two sheets down the middle to give each of us a little space. The long draping fabric reminded me of some silly fort constructed by kids. I vowed never to let any of my friends see where I lived.

  Those were difficult days back then and not because I shared a room with my ten-year-old brother. Tyson had a difficult time with our father’s death and couldn’t sleep, often waking up in terror with tears streaming down his cheeks.

  The nightmares always played a version of the same thing. An eighteen-wheeler truck driving full speed down a highway with Tyson standing in the path. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t run. His legs didn’t work. Instead, he screamed, thrashing around, making sounds we all heard until someone woke him up—or the truck ran him down. Sometimes that happened too. Just the way his little child mind envisioned how our father died in the car accident.

  Those nights in our shared room broke my heart. The way he sounded. The fear so deep in his eyes. I would sit and talk with him afterward. Mama wasn’t any help. But he had me to wipe the tears, to listen, to tell him it would be okay. Sometimes I think our bond came from those nights. I loved Tyson more than I would anyone else in this entire world.

  We lived in the fort room together until I was sixteen. Granddaddy eventually turned the laundry room into another bedroom and closed in the back porch for the washer and dryer. We had our own space. But every now and then, I would hear Ty’s voice down the hall as he tried to move away from the ghost truck in his sleep. I’d go wake him up. And we’d sit in the kitchen, eating whatever leftover dessert Grams had on the counter.

  That was years ago. We don’t talk about it anymore. He’d outgrown them. Well, mostly, I guess. I knew he still had the occasional night terror—even in his twenties. He just handled them differently now. Instead of crying on the shoulder of his sister, Ty would sit on the porch and drink beer to block out the haunting visions.

  Tonight, I kept my arm around his broad shoulders in a half hug. He tried to hide a sniffle. His fists clenched up for a moment. “It’s my fault, Sarina. I should have been there.”

  He felt guilty. I felt a deeper guilt, but I tried to ease his broken heart. “It’s not anyone’s fault. Okay? We didn’t cause her to be this way.”

  “But you didn’t see it,” he whispered.

  A movement caught my attention and I tensed. Jeremiah Cole stood in front of my family with a cardboard holder containing four cups of coffee.

  “What are you doing here?” I muttered, struggling to keep my voice calm.

  “Oh, sorry, Sarina. I didn’t expect you to be here or I would have gotten you a coffee too.” His tone hid the true biting sarcasm, but Cole got his point across just the same with that damn smirk and holier-than-thou gleam in his eyes.

  The ache in my heart for my family quickly turned into anger. His presence only doused this terrible night with lighter fluid. I was going to kill him. Letting go of Ty, I got up from my seat. I hated to leave my brother alone, but I also needed to handle the one problem I could fix tonight.

  Jeremiah Cole Ramsey.

  “Outside. Now!” I hissed next to his ear. Marching through the sliding doors, I walked down the sidewalk away from the emergency entrance. I heard his boots on the cement behind me, matching step-to-step with my four-inch wedge sandals.

  I turned around and faced Cole. He wore an old black T-shirt, which matched the color of his soul. I glared at him while his gray eyes centered directly over my breasts. I suddenly became aware of the clothes I’d worn tonight for Javier. I didn’t care how I was dressed when it was just my family. But now his gaze infuriated me even more.

  “Stop looking at me,” I spat.

  He smirked. “Then don’t show up half naked, expecting me not to notice.”

  “What the hell are you doing here, anyway? Because it’s a shitty time for you to be your typical asshole self. You knew damn well I would be at the hospital. It’s my mother. So why are you here? The last time I checked, you are not family.”

  “Settle down, Sarina.” He shook his head, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He flicked the lighter and took a drag. The smoke came out of his lips as he half smiled. Cole gestured toward me to take a hit.

  I rolled my eyes. “Uh, that’s a no.”

  “Do you even know why it bothers you that I’m here?” His eyebrows lifted up as he taunted me again. “Maybe it’s because I’m a better friend to Ty than your selfish ass. Or maybe you can’t stand the fact that my presence alone still gets you all fired up inside.”

  He had some nerve acting like this tonight. My family was held together by duct tape. Gritting my teeth, I yelled at him. “I hate you.”

  “I know.” His grin turned slightly devilish. “You told me that right before the first time I—”

  “Gahhh.” I wanted to pull my hair out. “Do you even think before you speak? Just . . . just shut up. No. I’m not doing this. I can’t deal with you tonight. Please. Just leave.”

  “No.” He let out a puff of smoke as he casually pushed his shoulder-length blond hair behind his right ear.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said no. Not until you hear me out.”

  My fingers gritted up into fists. “Fine. By all means. Don’t let me stop you. But there’s nothing you can say that will ever make me get back together with you. And bringing it up tonight just proves you’re a complete dick. Move on! I have.”

  “Not everything is about you, Sarina. That’s always been your problem. You’ve always been so wrapped up in yourself.” He stepped a little closer. I caught the scent of his cologne.

  “Get back.” I pushed his chest with my hand.

  “No. I want to make sure you understand every damn word I gotta say.” His breath hit my cheeks. “Ty’s not going to tell you this. But he can’t deal with all of the shit you’ve dumped on him. You knew better, Sarina. But you were hell-bent on leavin’ anyway. Stuck your middle finger in the air and drove away.”

  “Don’t give me a lecture. You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

  “Really? Let’s see . . . I’m here because Ty was with me when he got the call tonight. And it was me who was at the house when your brother had to bust down the door to the bathroom. Not your selfish ass. It was me who was there when he found your mama all cut up on the rug and he completely lost his shit. And it was me who drove your grandparents to the hospital while Ty rode in the ambulance. It was me who helped your grams because she was having a full-blown panic attack. I had to give her a Valium. And then she laid in the backseat while Granddaddy made me recite prayers in the front seat with him. That’s what I did tonight. Where the fuck have you been?”

  I blinked at him. Stunned. Hurt. Ashamed. I hated him. And I hated that he of all people had to fling the news in my face. I hated the way Jeremiah Cole was constantly mixed in with my dirty laundry.

  “I know—”

  “I’m not finished.” He cut me off. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to take care of your crap since you moved out. It’s not even the second or third. When all of this shit blows over from tonight, you need to talk to Ty about his truck.”

  “His truck?” The subject switch left me dumbfounded. I racked my brain for something my brother must have said in one of our phone calls,
but I came up blank. “Did he wreck it?”

  “That’s what I thought,” he scoffed. “He’s so worried about messing with your life in that fuckin’ golden castle. You don’t know shit anymore. Talk to your brother about his damn truck.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “No.” He took another drag from his cigarette, but he didn’t drop a single hint. Instead, I swear the man gloated, taunting me on purpose.

  My nostrils flared and my hands started to shake. It was all too much. My mama. And Cole with his veiled threats and even more evasive truths. “Why are you being this way?”

  His grin returned. “Maybe because I think you deserve it.”

  I slapped him. The sting radiated from my fingertips down to my wrist.

  “You feel better now? Less guilty?” His eyebrows went up as he mocked my assault.

  Surprisingly enough, it was only the second time I’d ever hit Cole. Neither of us was violent, at least not with our hands. Just our mouths. “I’m not listening to any more of your bullshit. Tonight isn’t about you, either.”

  He got closer. “Someone needs to tell you to pull your head out of your ass and it ain’t going to be one of them in that waitin’ room. Unlike your family, I don’t give a shit if you yell at me. Get pissed. What’s new? But I’m not joking around. They deserve better than you. But you’re all they got. So pack your bags and get your ass back home.”

  “You actually think I’m going to take advice from you?” I was breathing hard as I came back at him, getting right up in his face, the adrenaline pumping through my body. “You’d say anything to get me back. And this is low—even for you.”

  I flexed my hand, still feeling the pain from the hit. Maybe he was telling the truth or maybe he was playing me. I couldn’t tell right now. But I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly anymore. The terror of being called to the hospital had sent me into an emotional spiral, and Cole had lit the fuse that made it all explode.

  “Could y’all not fight tonight? I heard you both yelling when I walked out the front doors.”

  I spun around to see my brother behind us—haggard and broken and streaked with blood. I felt like the most selfish, horrible person in the world. My little brother carried the burdens of the family as I had a brawl in the parking lot with his best friend.

  “Ty, I’m sorry.” My throat constricted on the words.

  “Just come inside. Both of you.”

  Shame flushed my cheeks. I glanced at Cole. The same guilt reflected in his gray eyes. In that moment, we found a wordless truce. He gave me a brief nod. I gave him one back.

  I let out a deep breath. “We’ll be right there.”

  Dropping the cigarette on the ground, Cole snuffed it out with the toe of his black boot. He put a hand under my elbow, pulling me along toward the sidewalk. And I let him. Maybe he thought I would bail. Or maybe it gave him a sense of being in control. Either way, it didn’t matter. There was nothing left in me. The fight disappeared with the truth. I knew who the real asshole was tonight.

  And it wasn’t him.

  I’d become so caught up in the Hawthorns and my daily drama that I’d failed to see my family was falling apart. And I didn’t even know the full extent of it yet.

  Cole’s fingers stayed on my arm as we went through the emergency room revolving door. His jaw remained tight. The arrogance gone along with his smile. Instead, his eyes were creased in worry. I needed to say something he deserved to hear. And the words would burn my tongue like acid.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “For helping them tonight.”

  He looked me in the eyes. “You know what they mean to me. I know I ain’t blood. But they’ve been more of a family to me than anyone else. Ty’s my brother. And Grams and Granddad, I’d do anything for them.”

  “I know.” I swallowed the surge of emotion. The guy had finally got to me tonight. “I know you care about them.”

  Cole might drive me crazy, but he spoke the truth. His parents had ignored him most of his life. They made a living by selling and using drugs. Everyone in our area knew it. The guy had practically raised himself. And he’d spent time at our house because people paid attention to him. Asked about his homework. Made him dinner. Grams even washed his clothes sometimes. I tried to block out those little facts on most days. It was easier to hate someone when you didn’t feel compassion.

  “Sarina,” he whispered close to my ear. “You know I’d still do anything for you too.”

  “Cole—”

  “Don’t.” He let go of my arm as we reached the waiting room. “We promised not to fight.”

  I stepped away from him. Not looking back. Not wanting to see his eyes. I took a seat next to Tyson. And four chairs down, Cole sat by Grams. A nice buffer. A nice truce.

  The emergency room had a steady flow of traffic. We didn’t know much. The nurse at the desk said someone would find us in thirty minutes, which turned into an hour, which turned into two in the morning. I left and retrieved five cups of coffee. Grams clutched hers with trembling hands. Cole gave an amicable thanks. I sipped my cup while Ty downed the black liquid like a shot of whiskey, never even wincing as the hot coffee must have scalded his throat and tongue.

  Somewhere around three, they paged us to the family conference area. We shifted around to fit three large men and two women in the small room with smudged walls and the faint scent of old urine. Dr. Leonard Reid explained the severity of the situation and how something of this magnitude must be treated. We didn’t have any options or choices. He felt she was a danger to herself and possibly others.

  He said Mama needed to stay for a thirty-day hold and evaluation. The doctors would try different treatments and see if she responded to some of the newer medications.

  “Can we see her?” I asked as he handed over the paperwork. Grams wiped away tears and leaned on Granddaddy’s shoulder. They clung together, morphing into a pair of aged and worn bookends.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Dr. Reid’s tiny mustache twitched as he spoke. “We gave her a minor evaluation tonight. Her injuries have been treated. But I feel a visit from family might just agitate her more right now. I know this is difficult. But please understand. She’s safe. And we plan to keep her that way. She’ll be transferred to the mental health ward tomorrow.”

  “Is this no-visitor thing just tonight?” Tyson rubbed his eyes, the exasperation growing in his voice. “Or we can’t see her at all? For thirty whole days?”

  “I’m sorry. But I don’t know the answer. This will change on a day-by-day basis, depending on how she’s responding. But you can get updates as next of kin.”

  I put a hand on Ty’s arm. “Hey, we’ll figure this out. It’s okay. Like he said, she’s safe now.”

  His gave a reluctant nod. “Yeah, okay.”

  We filed out of the room. No one spoke as we made our way through the hospital. I tried to tell myself this was for the best. Maybe the doctors would help her. Maybe they would find the old Mama somewhere inside her head.

  Out in the parking lot, Cole pulled us aside as my grandparents got in the backseat of the car. His eyes were still serious as he looked pointedly at my brother. “Hey, you need to talk to Sarina and get your shit straightened out.”

  Ty shook his head. “I can’t. Not tonight.”

  “I didn’t mean right now.” Cole frowned. “Just talk to her soon. Okay?”

  He nodded.

  “I’ll come see you tomorrow,” I said. Mrs. Hawthorn wouldn’t like me leaving in the middle of the day this close to the gala. But I didn’t see that I had a choice right now.

  Ty didn’t make eye contact. His gaze remained cast down. “Okay. I’ll be there at two.”

  I gave him a hug, but he barely squeezed back. He immediately let go and headed for the passenger’s seat of the car.

  Over the course of the night, I’d spent many hours analyzing the situation. I assumed my brother had sold his truck for the money as some twisted way of showing his independenc
e—not that an eight-year-old Ford was even worth very much, which made the stunt completely ridiculous. What was he even driving to work? Maybe he borrowed Gram’s car or maybe Cole carted his ass around. That might explain some of his frustrations tonight.

  The exhaustion hit me hard. My head hurt. My butt hurt from the seats. I needed to go home. Go to bed. I gave Cole a brief nod and turned to leave.

  “Where’s your car?”

  I let out an exasperated breath. “I’m fine. Just take them home.”

  “Sarina—”

  “Good night, Cole.”

  My feet kept moving. I never stopped walking. Never looked back. I didn’t want to think anymore tonight. I didn’t have the energy. I didn’t know what to do about my family. About my job. About my life.

  Everything seemed to be crashing down like waves, drowning me in an ocean of turmoil. Cole was right. My family needed me. But I refused to quit until after the fundraiser. Maybe I would leave the Hawthorns. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to leave. And we needed the money. Maybe now that Mama was getting help, it would be okay.

  So many thoughts were running through my head while having no sleep and too much caffeine. I wasn’t thinking rational enough for any kind of real decision at this point.

  I just needed to sleep.

  I could think about it all tomorrow.

  The first glow of sunrise came through the trees outside the Hawthorn estate. I had my windows rolled down since the protesters were usually gone for the night. But even at this hour, three men were already camped out by the curb. Damn it. Why were they already here? And then I couldn’t help myself.

  “Don’t you have anything better to do?” I yelled out the window. “Leave us the hell alone.”

  Us? The word echoed out into the shadows beneath the streetlights. There was no us. I wasn’t one of them. But this invasion into their lives had become a thorn in my own side. And at this moment, I literally didn’t have an ounce left in me to tolerate the insanity of these protestors.