The Hawks_A Novel

by SD Hendrickson

  “I think that’s enough,” Javier interjected. “You got what you need, right? To charge them?”

  “Yeah, Ms. Atwood’s statement does make this seem premeditated. Which will help your case. Here’s my card. If anything else happens, don’t hesitate to call me.”

  The police packed up to leave and Javier escorted them outside. Mrs. Hawthorn went to call Ted privately from the office. I wondered how he would take the news.

  Would he dare cross the property line? Or would this be the straw that breaks his patience? He might very well decide to intervene in her life. Take away the power. I doubt the fundraiser would get canceled at this point. Too close. Too much advertisement. But I guess time would tell on what could happen afterward.

  I went to retrieve my car from the driveway, but it had already been removed. Instead, I found Brenda on the porch, gazing out toward the front yard at the moonlit flowers while quietly singing the words to the hymn, He Walks with Me. The cook stopped mid-verse when she saw me.

  “No, keep going. I was just looking for my car.”

  She smiled. “Mr. Javier moved it.”

  “Of course he did.” I sighed, feeling slightly delirious. My eyes closed as I tried to focus. This whole mess between us had started with him moving my car.

  “Darlin’, you just go ahead and get some rest. No sense worrying about it tonight.”

  Nodding my head, I looked back at Brenda. “You’re right. I just want to fall into my bed and forget about all of this.”

  “That sounds like a nice plan. But whew! Don’t go collapsing on your bed like that. Get yourself in the shower and scrub with something lemon. It’ll bleach out that smell.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not touching my sheets like this,” I agreed. “But it’s late. You should get to bed too.”

  “I will soon.” Her eyes turned back out past the rose bushes. “Sometimes I just like to stand here in this beautiful yard and thank God for the good things when sometimes it seems like there’s only bad. And this whole evenin’ had plenty of the bad.”

  I pursed my lips, thinking about the irony of the statement. She didn’t even know the level of my bad things tonight. I glanced up. The sky was clear, making the twinkling stars appear bright and hopeful. Brenda picked up where she left off in the song. I listened, feeling a bit of peace in the sound.

  “You have a beautiful voice,” I whispered.

  “Well, thank you. But you don’t need a good voice to speak to God. You do know that, right?”

  I nodded, understanding more than she realized. “Did I ever tell you that my daddy was a preacher?”

  “A preacher?”

  “Well, he was a chaplain when he worked the oil fields. I guess that’s what you would call it.” I smiled. “He would be gone for weeks at a time, working long hours. But on Sundays, Daddy did a sermon for the men. Some regulars. Some not even Christian. They just wanted a little company while away from home. Or maybe a little hope as they worked a dangerous job. But Daddy would prepare a sermon. Have the men sing a few songs. He always said there was something powerful in those hymns. Music could touch a soul when nothing else made a crack.”

  “Your daddy sounds like a smart man.”

  “Yeah.” I stared back out into the formidable darkness. “Well, I’m not sure if he would like how Tyson and I have turned out. We would be quite the disappointment, I think. He believed in honesty and integrity.”

  “Darlin’, you ain’t so bad. Well, if you don’t count what you do with Mr. Javier. You might be foolin’ her, but you ain’t foolin’ me.”

  “What!” I looked over at the woman in shock, my mind spinning. How much did she know? Was it the dates? Him coming to my room? Could she hear us? Oh my . . . nooo. I wanted to die from embarassment.

  “Hey, don’t you worry.” Brenda patted me on the back as she laughed. “That boy’s a charmer. I saw it coming from a mile away. Doesn’t make you bad, though. Nor does it make it bad in your daddy’s memory, either. I think every father just wants their daughter to find someone who cares about them and treats them the way a girl should be treated.”

  “Maybe . . .” A weak smile graced my lips as my cheeks burned deep red.

  “I just hate that she’s got a say in it. That woman needs to mind her own business. She’s already run off all the rest of her family. Mr. Javier will go one day too.”

  “I know,” I whispered.

  Looking back up at the sky, I watched for a moment longer before I left Brenda to her star-gazing and song-prayers. In my room, I scrubbed my body with lemon dish soap and washed my hair twice. I swear the stench had soaked into my scalp.

  I’d just crawled into the safety of my bed when I heard a soft knock. Lying under the covers, I watched the door and didn’t move. It was locked from the inside. The handle rattled but didn’t budge. Javier knocked once more, and I heard my name whispered from the other side.

  “Sarina, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  I felt tears in my eyes. I couldn’t see him. Not yet. Not tonight. Not after what had transpired today. Not after what I’d done. The ugliness with Cole. And not telling him about the protesters. I needed to disappear. Just for tonight. I didn’t want to talk or worry about all the issues plaguing my heart. About all the things in my control. And the ones that were not.

  Pulling my covers over my head, I thought about a prayer my daddy had taught me as a little girl. Those words had not left my lips in many years. As I whispered out loud in the darkness, this time I didn’t feel crazy. The words brought me comfort. They reminded me that I wasn’t alone. I still had my father when I needed him.

  Present Day

  HOLLOW EYES DROPPED THE WAITRESS back on the floor. He yanked me up by the elbow, fingers pressing tight into my skin. My high heels wobbled as I stood next to his wide body. Slipping my feet out of the shoes, I left them next to the bartender. I needed to be solid if I expected a fighting chance once I reached the library. Mrs. Hawthorn continued to stare, boring little holes into my skull. This was sick and twisted even for her.

  I gave my boss an angry glare right back.

  “Take me.”

  My gaze left Delsey and flipped to a familiar set of brown eyes, so full of passion and hostility in the moment as he asked to go in my place.

  “No,” I whispered.

  “I know how to open the safe,” Javier insisted.

  “Ms. Atwood is capable of handling this,” Mrs. Hawthorn said, her eyes never leaving me. “She has spent more time in that room than you, considering she likes to borrow things that are not hers.”

  Are you kidding me? Now was not the time to be pissed about my library book usage. But she was also sacrificing me over her grandson. That part I at least understood.

  Blue motioned for Hollow Eyes to keep walking toward the doors. The man clenched my arm, dragging me along with him.

  “Wait!” Javier yelled.

  “Shut up,” Blue snapped.

  “Take me! Please.” He pleaded this time as desperation seeped into his voice.

  “I said shut the fuck up.”

  A noise sounded from behind. I spun around. My captor let go of my arm in the confusion. They were fighting. Javier and the bartender were fighting each other. Kicking. Head-butting.

  They were giving me a chance.

  I darted toward the exit. Sliding on my side, I went underneath the blackjack table blocking the door. I pushed with my feet, trying to budge the poker table just enough to escape. I didn’t need much room. I could crawl through a small space.

  The table moved a few inches across the hardwood floor. Using every ounce of strength, I did it again. It was enough, I think. I flipped over. My hands were bound, but my fingers clawed at the door. A sliver of space opened up. Just a little more. Just a little wider.

  Someone grabbed my ankle, yanking hard. I fell forward on my face as I slid backward on my stomach out from under the poker table. The man in the gray mask lifted me from the ground, puttin
g my neck in a headlock. I was pinned against his body.

  Hollow Eyes came over toward us. “Give her to me.”

  “Get the fuck away. I can handle her better than you.” He held me tight, breathing against my neck. “Just get the damn table out of the way.”

  Early Fall

  RAIN CAME THE NEXT DAY, washing the house and my world with thick drops of water as I worked on the fundraising donations. The minutes in the office ticked off on the grandfather clock as the sounds from the outside world competed with those on the inside of the lavish house.

  My nerves were rattled after the incident with the protestors last night, but that didn’t stop the never-ending flow of coffee into my cup. Taking a short break, I found a yellow umbrella and walked to the employee parking annex in search of my car. The old Volkswagen didn’t seem to be anywhere on the estate—not that I was dying to leave the gates after last night.

  The people were gone. But that fact didn’t make any of this seem better. I still felt violated. Attacked. Even if they didn’t shoot out my window, the sound had echoed in my ears just the same.

  Cole called when I returned to the house. As promised, I answered on the second ring with an amicable voice. I didn’t know what to expect from him. Not after what had happened at his trailer. But instead, he kept to the facts.

  As he spoke, I waited for Cole to deliver good news. But his words didn’t bring me any comfort in regards to my brother. Only more anxiety. Things were worse than we’d expected. Tyson had got himself caught up in the cycle of payday loans. And because those debts needed to be paid, Cole didn’t know if he could get Tyson’s truck out of the lot. But he would try again. When he called a second time, I decided to drive back out there and confront my brother in person.

  “No.” Cole shut me down. “You asked for my help. So this is me helping. I’m sorry Ty didn’t tell you the whole truth. These loans are nothing but a way to scam the poor. He would’ve been better off going to a pawn shop with your mama’s wedding ring instead of signing over his check.”

  “No,” I gasped in response to his horrid suggestion. “And don’t be putting those ideas in his head, either.”

  “Geez, I’m not tryin’ to make it worse. I was just sayin’ it would have been better than this. Just don’t worry. I’ll get this shit figured out with him. But I wanted to keep you updated.”

  “Okay, I appreciate that.” My eyes squeezed shut. Good grief, Tyson. I could kill you right now. But this was why I’d visited Cole at his trailer. I needed someone else to help carry the weight. And he currently was fulfilling that request. “Well, if you need more money to fix this, I don’t have much, but I’ll get paid at the end of the week.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Okay, well, bye. And um, thank you.”

  “Wait, Sarina, before you go. I wanted to say something.” He hesitated and I braced for whatever insanity he decided to throw at me. I knew this was too good to be true. I pictured him rubbing his fingers over the scruff on his chin. “I did a lot of thinking after you left last night. I know my personal feelings keep getting mixed up in this shit. I know you’ve been helping. I saw how much money you gave Tyson. I know that job must pay pretty damn good. And well, I’m sorry.”

  I swallowed hard, trying to digest those words. Did he really just apologize? Cole of all people uttered the words I’m sorry. This was a new one for him. And I couldn’t help but question his motives. “Thanks, but why the sudden change of heart?”

  He laughed faintly. “Just take the apology while I’m in the mood to give it. And I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.”

  “Okay.” The call ended and I was left to ponder the odd exchange between us. This other side of Cole left me slightly skeptical. But maybe this idea of a truce seemed to be working with him and it was helping Tyson.

  I set my phone down and stared at the papers on my desk. I tried to focus on work. Sometimes my world appeared to be unraveling at the seams. I kept grabbing at the strands, trying to tie them back together, only to have pieces fray apart in my hands. My foot tapped on the floor. I clenched my fingers, feeling my nails make half-moons in my palms.

  I couldn’t sit still in this chair or even this office any longer. My troubled thoughts, fueled by caffeine, were driving me crazy. I wanted a cigarette. I needed just a small taste of the tobacco. Even my skin felt itchy for the light caress of the smoke. But instead, I decided to put my amplified anxiety to good use.

  Time to tackle the ballroom.

  Going to my bedroom, I changed into a pair of cotton black shorts and a white tank top. I pulled my hair into a loose ponytail, hanging low against my neck.

  The floor needed to be cleaned and then waxed. The walls would need a good coat of wood polish. If I worked a little every day, I should have the place shinier than a Porsche by the end of the week.

  Turning on the sound system, I switched the input over to the radio and found a classic rock station playing Bon Jovi. Something loud to silence my thoughts. I started at the bar first. The scrubbing felt good and I quickly lost myself in the throes of manual labor mixed with the sounds coming from the high-end, expensive speakers.

  About an hour later, the doors rattled and opened abruptly. I looked up from where I was cleaning. My breath caught in my lungs and my pulse beat a little faster.

  Javier smiled as he sauntered barefoot across the wood floor. But he seemed tired. Dark circles accented his vibrant brown eyes. He wore a faded pair of jeans, peppered with holes in the worn fabric, and a fitted white T-shirt. Warm and inviting. Made me want to rest my head on his chest. Let go of my problems and just smell the fresh scent of laundry as I drifted away into the comfort of his embrace.

  The thoughts made an ache grow in my heart.

  I wanted him. I needed him.

  Too damn much.

  Javier pulled me into his arms. And I let him. My daydream wishes manifested as reality as he held me tight. My shoulders relaxed just a tad. And for a second, I felt peace.

  “I had your car fixed. And cleaned.” He spoke low, almost like he was afraid to interrupt the moment with words. “The company just delivered it to the garage.”

  “Thank you.”

  His lips brushed my neck. “I’ve missed you, Sarina.”

  “I’ve missed you too,” I whispered, speaking the truth. We had yet to spend time together. To even touch since the incident with the protestors. Part of that was my fault because I’d kept him locked out of my room last night. And I’d truly missed the way he felt against me. The way his presence relaxed my weary soul.

  “But you’re not okay,” he said. Not as a question, just a statement by someone who had grown to know me well.

  I shook my head as tears pricked my eyes. “No.”

  The weight of all my inner worries and failures surged through me in an intense rush. My fingers curled up in the fabric of his shirt. I might not ever let go of him. His scent filled me like the calm in the storm. The oasis in the middle where everything stopped blowing at a hundred miles per hour. And the people had a moment to gather their bearings before the next wave.

  Javier rubbed his hands over my back, kneading the tension knots with his thumbs until I relaxed more against him. I tilted my head down into his chest to give him better access to my neck. Gentle movements with just a slight pressure, massaging, caressing the exposed skin.

  He brushed my hair away from my ear and whispered, “This would be better if you turned around.”

  I shook my head. The spell receeding with the sound of his voice. It didn’t feel right taking from him tonight. Not without clarity between us. And I needed to start with a few apologies.

  I lifted my head, chin tilting back so I could see his eyes. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about what happened at the gates. What the man said to me. I was going to and things just got . . . out of control yesterday. And I didn’t get a chance. You were busy at work. And I was afraid you would get upset at me for talking
to them in the first place. I should never have done that. I feel like the attack was my fault.”

  “Hey.” His voice grew charged with emotion. “Don’t apologize. That was not your fault. Those people are crazy. And I’m not upset with you. I just wish you’d told me when it happened. The man threatened you. Threatened the family. You come to my room and wake me up. You interrupt my life. You tell me those things. Even if it means coming to find me at the office.”

  “But that would . . . people would . . . I know this is . . .” I stumbled over my words as I looked up into his concerned eyes. “I don’t want to interrupt that part of your life. This is . . . I don’t know.”

  “This is what? About us? Because safety has nothing to do with what is going on between us.”

  I nodded, nervously. “I know. I mean, I understand what you’re saying. I’m just tired. Not thinking clearly. It’s been a rough few days.”

  He looked at me for a moment. His eyes penetrated deep into my thoughts. “I know everything is a mess right now. And you’re exhausted. So just let me help. That’s why I came in here. Brenda said you have been at this for hours and it’s late. Either stop or let me help.”

  “Absolutely not.” I frowned. “You’re not helping me clean the ballroom.”

  “We can discuss that later. But please just stop for a while. Rest and talk to me. Maybe it will make things better.”

  I swallowed hard as the lump formed in my throat. “I don’t think my life is something you can fix.”

  “Tell me and we can find out.”

  “I don’t even know where to begin,” I muttered, giving him a weary, half shrug. “The never-ending situation with my mother. This problem with Tyson. I gave him all my savings yesterday. I don’t have any money now. And I think he didn’t graduate high school. Which how did I not know this? And . . . and . . . your grandmother wanting me to polish this damn floor because my job is a privilege. Or the fact that an armed guard is now at the gate because I was attacked last night by the crazy lunatics who are stalking my boss. Which I’m still not totally convinced I didn’t cause because I argued with them. And then there’s—” I stopped before I said his name.