The Hawks_A Novel

by SD Hendrickson

  Cole leveled his gaze. “You’re serious?”

  “Yes. I will take your phone calls.”

  “And you’ll come if I think you’re needed out here?”

  “Yes.”

  My heart was beating fast in my chest, filled with adrenaline from our fight. I didn’t say anything else, letting him digest the information for a moment. If all of the details were going to come together in my life, I needed an ally to keep me informed and things regulated with my family. Unfortunately, Jeremiah Cole was the closest person I knew with a vested interest.

  He stood a few feet away, still clutching the container of brownies. “So is it serious?”

  “Is what serious? This shit with Tyson? I don’t know. He wouldn’t talk much about the bills he owes.”

  “No.” His jaw clenched. “Not Ty. This thing with you and the other guy.”

  I let out an irritated huff. “Why did you have to ruin a perfectly good moment?”

  “Hey. I just want to know if you’re trying to piss me off or if you actually have something going on with him. I think that’s a fair question, considering you’re asking for my help.”

  I balled my fingers into a fist. I should tell him that it was wonderful and amazing and serious as hell. Because that’s how Javier made me feel. I swallowed hard. “It’s something. I don’t know for how long. But I’m with him. And right now? It feels very serious.”

  “I see.” His voice was clipped.

  I glanced back at Cole. “I need to go back to work. Are we good now?”

  “Sure. Perfect.” He swallowed, making his throat move beneath the collar of his shirt. “In case you come looking for me again, I’ll be moving next week. So you might call first.”

  “Moving?” My eyebrows went up.

  “Yeah.” He smiled faintly. “I got a promotion at the ranch. Mr. Abernathy gave me a house to live in. And a new truck.”

  “Wow. That’s . . .” My excitement was sincere. “That’s really good. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” He stared at me, his gray eyes burning with intensity. “Sarina, I know it’s not some fancy mansion in the city. But it’s a nice house. Three bedrooms. Two baths. Already got some furniture in it that I get to keep. Even has a garage and a flowerbed with one of those things you like.”

  “A rock fountain,” I whispered.

  “Yeah.” He smiled. I felt the tension growing as I listened to his words—the ones I knew would come next. “Sarina, you could live there too. If you wanted. Now or someday. You know, if you end up quitting your job. I’m not saying right now. But maybe in the future.”

  I stared at him, my words lost. Normally, I would sling a mouthful of venom and Cole would light it on fire with a match. But not for something like this.

  That was his heart talking, not his dick. I hated when that happened. I shook my head. “Please don’t do this, Cole,” I muttered quietly. “I want to be happy for you. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

  He reached up and touched a piece of my hair that had fallen loose from the bun on top of my head. His tongue wetted his bottom lip before speaking. “Do you love this other guy? Is that it? Is that the part I’m missing?”

  Did I love Javier? Hearing his question, I felt rattled. I tried to gain some composure. “I don’t know. Maybe I could love him . . . one day.”

  “But you can’t love me.” His lips twitched.

  “I never said that.” The words slipped out and I tried to pull them back in my mouth. But once they were spoken, there was no erasing the look they provoked in his eyes. I heard the container of brownies fall to the ground somewhere by our feet.

  Cole cupped my face in his hands, bringing our lips together. I groaned at the familiar rough contact. His kisses were rarely gentle, and today was no exception. Out of reflex, my mouth opened, giving him access to my tongue. I should have protested. But this moment had been building for twenty-four hours and I didn’t have the energy to stop it.

  The scruff on his jaw rubbed against my face, burning with each kiss. He ran his hands over my back, grabbing my hips, digging his fingers into my butt cheeks. I felt him hard against my stomach. Shit. This was not happening.

  I pushed Cole away. Did I just lose my damn mind? I heard a husky laugh deep in his throat. He knew for a brief moment that his rough kiss had seared my lips and broken down my defenses. But I didn’t mean it. I didn’t actually want it to happen. He’d preyed on me while I was weak.

  “I hate you,” I whispered.

  “No, you don’t.” Cole smiled. “Not even a little.”

  As always, the guy knew just how to push my buttons. Anger shot under my skin and my thoughts went a little wild. “You—”

  He placed a finger against my lips. “Before you start spouting off how this is never happening again and how you hate me . . . again . . . I want to talk to you about something.”

  I moved his hand away and pointed at him. “You tricked me.”

  “Baby, I didn’t make you do anything. You kissed me back. That’s on you, Sarina.”

  I didn’t kiss him back. No, no, no. The fury started to burn in me. “You were supposed to be normal for five minutes. But no, you had to pull some . . . some stunt.”

  “I am being normal. I love you. And I’d like to have sex with you. And maybe have a life someday. But it’s you who has fucked-up mommy and daddy issues. It’s causing all . . . of this shit in your life that hurts other people.”

  What the . . . “Like you’re the one to talk about family problems.”

  “I ain’t got family issues. I know who and what my parents are. And I’ve never done drugs a day in my life because of it. I also have worked my ass off for everything I got because I know damn well they would not be reliable or give me a handout. Their shit made me a better man. Their shit made me not take your family for granted. But you.” He took a step closer until his breath touched my cheeks. “You’re afraid to stay when you’re needed here. Afraid of ending up like them. Afraid of being with me.”

  I shook my head. This conversation was over. I was done with his self-righteous rant. “I told you. I gotta go back to work. Are we good here?”

  The anger flashed bright red on his cheeks and his nostrils flared. “Fine. I’m just wasting my breath anyway. We’re good. But you better take my phone calls.”

  “Yes. I told you I would.” Bending down, I picked up the container of forgotten brownies. “This was supposed to be a peace offering. So here. Can we try to be peaceful now?”

  The tension was as thick as butter. Angry. Sexual. And just plain stubborn. His jaw twitched as his emotions battled strong. But Cole took the gift anyway.

  “For Ty,” he muttered.

  I smiled faintly. “For Ty.”

  The words lingered in the humid evening air for a moment until he finally cracked a sarcastic grin. “The son of a bitch. He hates our fighting, but then he pulls shit that makes us do this.”

  “Yeah, I know.” My shoulders sagged a bit as I nodded. “Did you know he didn’t graduate? He doesn’t have his diploma? I mean it doesn’t make sense. I sat there and watched him go across that stage.”

  Cole let out a deep breath, shaking his head. “Not until a few years ago. I got on his ass about enrolling in welding school like you did. And then Ty finally told me. Said he got to walk at graduation but grades weren’t in yet. I’ve tried to talk him into the GED program. But he won’t hear it. I think he’s afraid of you knowing the truth.”

  “Why does that matter?” I rolled my eyes in exasperation. “Never mind. We can work on that problem later. He just needs his truck back right now.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Okay, well, we’re good then.” I took a few steps away from him. “I need to get back to the house. I’ve got work to finish tonight.”

  He nodded in agreement, but I saw the lingering hurt still in his gray eyes. “Look, Sarina . . .”

  “What?” I didn’t have it in me to fight anymore. “Please let me go ho
me.”

  “I just want to understand, okay? Why him? Is it easier because of the money? Is it just that simple and my pride won’t let me accept it?”

  I let out a frustrated huff. “I’m not that shallow, Cole. Regardless of what you think. It’s not the money.”

  “Then why him?”

  “He makes me feel . . .” I paused and shrugged. “Calm. Centered. And he believes in me.”

  “Dammit. I believe in you.” Exasperation filled his voice as he fought one last time.

  “No. You believe in the idea of me. That’s always been the problem. You have to let me go.”

  He shook his head. Defiance in his pose. “I don’t know if I can let you go.”

  “You have to, Cole,” I pleaded. “Because I’m already gone.”

  “What if I refuse to accept that?”

  “Life doesn’t work that way.” I shook my head and gestured toward the container he still clutched in his hand. “Just . . . go eat your brownies. I have to get home.”

  The sun was only a brief orange glow behind his trailer as I walked to my car. He didn’t stop me this time. I sat behind the wheel for a moment. Feelings should have an off switch controlled by little buttons hidden somewhere behind the ears. Press right for on and left for termination. Life would be so much easier.

  Because hating a person and not loving them were vastly different emotions. Hate was intertwined with passion while not loving someone came from indifference. I wasn’t sure I could ever reach a level of total indifference with Jeremiah Cole. First loves had that effect on a person—no matter how toxic the relationship.

  Yet, I’d moved on with my life.

  But I wasn’t sure if Cole would ever truly let me go.

  Late Summer

  IT’S SCARY HOW LITTLE YOU remember while sitting behind the wheel of a car when your mind is wrapped up in the outside world. I remembered nothing of my drive back to the Hawthorn estate. No streetlights or stop signs. No lane changes or speed limits.

  Nothing.

  Everything in my life was twisting around so fast I could barely keep my thoughts straight. Last night with my mama still weighed heavily on my heart. This was not going to get any better. Only worse. And it hurt to see how much it crushed Grams. She looked so sad during dinner, glancing at the empty seat normally occupied by my mother.

  And Tyson. I gripped the steering wheel in my hands. I was angry at him and hurt too. I sucked in a deep breath as my throat swelled up. I should have known more about my brother’s life. But I could only know the things he decided to share with me. Hopefully, his financial problems were fixed and under control even if it involved Jeremiah Cole.

  How could I have allowed him to kiss me? He should have never gotten that close. Anger and guilt were currently in a boxing ring inside my chest. They were both beaten and covered with blood as each was equally winning.

  “You kissed him!” I yelled.

  How could I have let Cole get to me that way? How could I have done that to Javier? I wasn’t a cheater. Delsey’s words came back to me in that instance. I wasn’t a whore.

  I wanted to cry. The tears pooled in my eyes. But I refused to let them fall. It was only a kiss. And in my defense, that kiss was not instigated by me, which made it technically not my fault. But it didn’t lessen the guilt.

  I didn’t know what to call this relationship with Javier. Maybe I wasn’t his girlfriend. We never used labels. Always casual. But I would not want his lips on someone else. And I don’t think he would do that to me, either. There was this underlying goodness ingrained in him. I shook my head as I gripped the steering wheel tighter. No, he would never kiss someone else while dating me. My heart and my gut said that man would never hurt me on purpose.

  In many ways, he was the best thing to ever happen to me—incredible, sexy, sweet, kind, the perfect boyfriend. And I may have just destroyed our relationship before I could even call him that by name. But I would need to tell Javier about what happened tonight. Let him get angry or end things between us.

  As I turned down the street, I saw the mob of protesters before I even reached the gates. Their faces were illuminated by the streetlights as they stood shoulder to shoulder. There was no way I could go through them tonight. What was happening? They never physically blocked the entire entrance.

  “Shit,” I muttered. “Not now.”

  Then my mind flashed back to our confrontation last night, or did that happen this morning? I shifted in my seat to get a better view. The springs pinched my butt cheeks.

  The protesters started a unified chant. Some held signs, but I couldn’t see much else in the dark under the streetlights. I honked before touching the gas. My Volkswagen rolled forward a couple of feet, but none of the people even flinched. This was ridiculous.

  I manually cranked down my window. “Come on! Let me through.”

  The man I’d spoken to earlier this morning stood in the middle. He ambled toward the hood of my car. His smile shifted into a sinister grin, flashing pink lips and white teeth in the darkness.

  I stared. He stared back, daring me to confront him again, thinking he could intimidate me. Break me? Little did this man know that I could do this forever after working for Delsey Hawthorn. My eyes stayed locked to his brown ones as fear simmered in my stomach. I might be able to stand up to his challenge right now, but something just appeared off tonight with these people. Something had shifted and I didn’t know to what degree.

  The chanting continued until my nemesis finally stuck his fingers on his lips, giving one of those bone-curdling whistles that grabbed everyone’s attention.

  The people parted down the center—just wide enough for my car. I clicked the gate opener at the same time my foot touched the accelerator. The faces passed by my windows. I held my breath until I cleared the line.

  And then it happened.

  Objects came from every direction, hitting the car with the sound of a heavy hailstorm. Every hit turned into a mushy substance, running down the windshield and the sides of the car.

  I screamed and held onto the steering wheel as they coated every door and every window until the ammunition made its way through the rolled-down driver’s side window. The objects hit my shoulders and my chest, covering my body with a horrendous smell. I looked down in my lap at the remnants.

  Rotten eggs. And what appeared to be rotten fruit. Peaches, I think.

  What the fuck?

  I dry heaved as the smell reached my uneasy stomach. I couldn’t see out the front of the car. But I didn’t care. My foot hit the gas. I just needed to get inside the fence. The car lurched forward as I shifted gears and the tires spun as I rolled through the gate.

  The back windshield suddenly exploded, sending shards of glass all over the seat. I screamed. My hand hit the horn as I sunk down in my seat.

  They shot out my window!

  With my foot still on the gas, I stayed low and flipped on the windshield wipers. I prayed that I would miss the hawk statue as I drove blindly down the driveway. I hoped the people didn’t follow me. The gate should automatically close behind the car.

  But I didn’t look in the rearview mirror.

  I couldn’t.

  I sat up slightly in my seat as the speedometer kicked up and I sped toward the house. Just as I came to a screeching stop on the brick pavers, I realized my hand remained on the horn announcing my frantic arrival. Thankfully, the clutch didn’t stick as I shifted into park. My hand clasped the emergency brake.

  I looked up. Elmore stood on the porch with the lights ablaze. Brenda followed right on the heels of the old butler. Javier came next, running through the wide-open double doors.

  I got out of my car. Clumps of mushy food fell from my lap and into the driveway. My hands were shaking as tears ran down my cheeks and the smell of rotten eggs and fruit made my stomach lurch. I stumbled into the yard, only to fall on the ground and vomit next to the rose bushes.

  “Sarina, what on earth is happenin’?” I heard Brenda
coming toward me.

  “The people outside the gates.” I tried to breathe, but my lungs were resisting the smell. My hands clutched my knees as I tried to speak. “They . . . they wouldn’t . . . let me . . . through. And attacked. They shot my car.”

  Looking up, I saw Delsey Hawthorn peering at me from the porch. Even she seemed to be at a loss for words tonight. I caught another whiff of the eggs mixing with the peaches and I threw up again, all over her precious roses.

  The police came to the house, filling the entire street and driveway with flashing lights as they arrested the protestors. I didn’t understand the motivation of the attack. Didn’t they know it would end this way? Or was that the goal in their grand plan? The man had threatened me this morning. I think, or was that yesterday? My whole body started to shake. Brenda brought me a large towel, wrapping the soft terry cloth around my shoulders.

  And the lawyers came next. They filed an emergency restraining order, courtesy of a late-night phone call to a judge who was a friend of the Hawthorns. None of those people would be allowed anywhere near the estate for a very long time.

  The police detectives inspected my car and determined the broken windshield came from the fruit and not a shotgun. One of the peaches turned out to be hard and fresh and placed in the hands of someone with wicked aim. Not that it made me feel any less anxious.

  I spoke with the police for what seemed like hours while huddled under my towel. They asked all levels of questions. I had to tell them about the confrontation and describe every detail, every word the man had said to me.

  “So the protestor threatened you?” Detective Marks asked me. “Can you clarify that more?”

  My gaze shifted to Javier. His jaw remained tight. Arms crossed in that prominent stance. Powerful. Angry. His brown eyes burned. I think he might actually be mad at me for keeping this from him. I didn’t do it on purpose. Not intentionally. Just so many things were happening at once. I couldn’t think straight.

  “Ms. Atwood,” the detective prompted a second time.

  “Yes, he said something like, ‘When this house falls, you’ll go with it.’ I don’t know what he meant by it. I’m sorry. I was going to tell someone, but I’ve . . .” My voice trailed off.