Wreck: Hawke

by Heather C. Leigh

  “They were bloody brilliant,” Adam chimes in, punching Dax in the arm.

  Everyone is grinning ear to ear. “Tonight’s show was really good,” I agree once we’re far enough from the stage to not have to shout.

  We pile into the spacious room. Gavin and Dax tumble into chairs, exhausted, while Adam bounces around the room, still all hopped up from the concert. I lean against the closed door, not sure if my heart is racing from the show or from nerves.

  I take a deep breath. “Ummmm, guys? I need to talk to you.”

  Three heads turn in my direction. Four, if you include Ross, who is in the middle of taking a sip of water and ends up choking on it. Sputtering, Ross clears his throat and stares at me in disbelief. “You want to talk?”

  Yep. I can’t help but smirk at his shock. No, I’m not the guy who discusses feelings, or anything personal, really. Today, I guess I am. “Yes. If you don’t mind. I didn’t want to do this where anyone else could overhear, so this is the best place.”

  Adam takes a seat on a leather sofa. Gavin nods, meeting my gaze. “Go ahead, Hawke.”

  I give Gavin a tentative smile. Ever since Mitch tore me a new asshole for being a selfish dick, I’ve distanced myself from my best friend to keep from hurting him. I know my cold shoulder upsets him, but it’s better than causing him to worry all the time.

  I sit in the chair next to Gavin’s. “Okay. This is… hard for me.” The room is suddenly stifling, but my skin is cold and clammy from my sweat-soaked shirt.

  Gavin extends a hand to pat mine reassuringly. “It’s just us, dude. You can tell us anything.”

  “Right,” Adam adds. “You had to have an intervention for me because I was a stupid drunken idiot. Whatever you have to say can’t be that bad.”

  If he only knew. I guess he’s about to. I explain everything that happened the night of the accident, the drugs, the party, Lila… everything. Except for Dax shouting his extreme displeasure at Lila’s involvement, everyone simply listens.

  “So, for all these years you thought it was your fault?” Ross asks.

  I can’t look at him after confessing to pretty much killing my dad, his older brother. “Yeah.”

  “Hawke, that’s not true. At all,” Ross says.

  “I know. I mean, I know that now.” I chew on my lip ring, lifting my gaze to scan the faces of my friends. No one seems angry or disappointed. Mostly, I see love. We’re almost like a family. No, we are a family.

  My eyes mist up and I have to swallow down the emotions. A real fucking family after all this time, and it was right here in front of me. I was just too stupid, too selfish, too wrapped up in my grief to notice.

  The comfort of having people who care about me, that I can depend on, gives me the strength to explain. “I’ve been seeing a doctor. A therapist, actually. He’s… he’s helping me come to terms with the accident so I can move on and have some sort of normal life.”

  “Wow,” Gavin says.

  Minds collectively blown.

  “Yeah, wow.” I duck my head and shove my hands in my pockets. When my fingers brush across Hannah’s stone, I suck in a breath and continue. “He says I have PTSD.” Shit, this is so freaking embarrassing. “It won’t go away, but I can get better, so it doesn’t take over my life.” I wipe my hands on my jeans. Jesus, I’m sweating more now than I was onstage. “So, I’m going to keep seeing the doc, and see if I can stop being such a douche all the time.”

  Gavin stands and pulls me out of the chair and into his arms, sweat and all. “I’m so fucking proud of you, dude.”

  At first, all I can do is stand there, shocked. Then one by one, the guys crowd around, putting their arms around each other until we’re in one giant, sweaty group hug.

  The mood is serious, too serious. So naturally, Adam says something totally inappropriate to break the tension. “Gavin, this isn’t turning you on, is it, mate?”

  “Oh fuck you, Reynolds,” Gavin says good-naturedly as the rest of us laugh.

  We break apart and I turn to Adam. “Don’t mess with Gavin. His boyfriend is fucking scary when he’s pissed.”

  Everyone busts up laughing except for Gavin, who turns bright red. Ha! Ross moves to my side and claps a hand on my back. “I’m impressed, kid. Really impressed.” Now it’s my turn to blush.

  “I think it was time. I wish I had worked it out sooner, but…” I shrug, the words tapering off as my chest tightens.

  Ross looks at me, his eyes shining with moisture. “As long as you find happiness, Hawke. That’s all I care about.”

  “Actually…” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. Shit. “I need your help with that.” I make eye contact with every member of my band, my family, my brothers.

  Gavin nods his chin at me. “Anything. We’re here for you.”

  I let out a long breath and tell them my plan.

  Abby

  “This is a terrible idea, Kate. I’m just going to grab a cab and go home.” I’m a wreck. My hands are shaking, I’m sweating all over, and my heart feels like it might explode out of my chest it’s beating so fast.

  “Nonsense. Stop whinging. We’re in the audience for god’s sake. He won’t even notice us,” Kate chastises, blowing off my concern with a wave of her hand. “Besides,” she turns to look at me with a critical eye, her sharp gaze roving up and down my outfit. “You look gorgeous. Even if he did notice you, all it would do is let him know what he’s missing out on.”

  Unconsciously, I smooth out the loose, fluttering tank top I’m wearing with black skinny jeans. “That’s the point, Kate. I don’t want Hawke to think he’s missing out on something. I don’t want him to notice me. We don’t work. We never will until he admits he needs help, serious help.”

  Kate turns in her seat. “How do you know he didn’t get help? Have you called him? Have you checked in?” My mouth drops open. Hell, I have no response to that. “Hmmm, that’s what I thought.”

  I glance up at the drum kit on stage, no more than thirty feet from our seats in the front row. “Do you know something I don’t?” When I swing my gaze back to Kate, she’s wide-eyed and fidgeting, like the kid who got busted with their hand in the cookie jar.

  I’m about to question her, but at that exact moment, the lights go dark and the crowd around us erupts in shouts and high-pitched shrieks, effectively ending any chance at conversation with their deafening volume. Stage lights come on, and the guys are in their places, Adam front and center and Dax directly in front of us, strumming his guitar less than six feet away. I’m sure Kate planned our seats on purpose to be near her husband.

  Squealing girls close in, trying to rush the stage, including where Kate and I are standing. A large security guard descends on the fans in our section, keeping the two of us in a protective bubble. I catch Dax’s eye and he winks.

  My mouth falls open. He knows we’re here. I turn to my best friend and she simply grins. That little sneak! Even if I wanted to leave, I couldn’t. The entire front section of the venue has left their seats to surround the stage. I throw up my hands in defeat, causing Kate’s smile grow even bigger.

  Once I give up on sneaking out, I begin to relax and have fun. It’s been so long since I’ve heard the band. Kate and I dance and sing along with the familiar tunes. Try as I might, my eyes keep finding Hawke. How he uses his entire body to create the backbone of each song. He looks beautiful, but different somehow. I can’t figure out what it is until the band pauses to take big gulps of water and catch their breath. Then it hits me.

  Hawke looks happy. Truly happy. As long as I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him without that hint of sadness, that look of someone carrying an enormous burden on their shoulders.

  I smile, glad he finally found some peace.

  “You’re crying!” Kate shouts in my ear.

  I lift a hand to my face and wipe away moisture. “I guess I am.” Maybe it’s because while I’m thrilled for Hawke, I’m also heartbroken he never found that kind of happiness with me.
>
  Adam steps up to the mic. “Hello Los Angeles!” He holds it out over the audience to capture the responding shouts and screams. “We’re going to do something a little different here, so bear with us please.” All of the women and girls near us shriek from Adam’s sexy British accent.

  “Oh please,” Kate says. I catch her rolling her eyes and elbow her playfully.

  “You all know my mate, Hawke, right?” My attention jerks from Kate to the stage. Adam is handing the mic to Hawke, who is now so close to us I can make out the lines of every single tattoo on his arms.

  “Hey.” Hawke ducks his head slightly, obviously uncomfortable with being front and center on stage. The crowd either doesn’t notice his unease or doesn’t care because they shriek just as loudly for Hawke as they did Adam.

  Hawke rubs the back of his neck before looking out over the twenty thousand or so fans packed into the Staples Center. “I wanted a few seconds to tell you all a story.” Adam pushes a stool over for Hawke to sit on. “Thanks.” Hawke glances over his shoulder at Adam before looking back at the crowd. “Such a great guy, isn’t he?”

  Once more, the audience goes insane, clapping and screaming. “Anyway,” Hawke continues. “How many of you have heard about my love for adrenaline?”

  More screaming. I swear the girl next to me is going to pass out from lack of oxygen, she’s shrieking so loud. My attention, however, is fixed on the man onstage. Everything else fades away, the noise, the crowd, the burly security guys, until all I hear is the beating of my own heart thudding in my ears.

  “Well, I hate to break it to you, but I’m done with all that.” The arena quiets some, turning from excited shouts to the low murmuring of hundreds of conversations going on simultaneously. “Turns out I have PTSD and I was using the rush to block out a lot of bad shit in my life.”

  Hawke’s admission floors me. All of the blood in my body drains to my feet. Kate grabs me as I waver on my feet. “Abby? Are you all right?” I hear Kate speaking, but it’s nothing but tinny background noise.

  “I wanted to thank someone special for helping me figure out how fucked up I was before I ended up dead. Someone who loved me enough to make me realize I wanted to live just so I could have more time to love her back.” Hawke slides off the stool and walks over to the edge of the stage, kneeling down right in front of me.

  “Bee?” Hawke puts down the mic and extends a hand.

  “Abby,” Kate whispers. She shakes me out of my stupor. “Go.” With both hands, Kate pushes me forward. I glance up and find Hawke’s beautiful eyes locked on mine, the sincerity and love in them so obvious, it wouldn’t surprise me if the people in the nosebleed seats could see it.

  I reach up and Hawke’s warm grip surrounds my wrist. “Oh my god!” I squeal as the big security guard grabs my waist and easily lifts me onto the stage.

  While I’m still holding one of Hawke’s hands, he brings the other one up to gently caress my face. “I love you, Bee.” He brushes away a tear and gives me a crooked grin.

  Hesitantly, I reach up. Hawke’s smile falls and his eyes follow my every move. I push his glasses up onto his head so there’s nothing left between us, no more barriers. This. This is the real Henry Walker Evans. The man I fell in love with almost a decade ago and never stopped loving.

  “I love you too,” I whisper.

  Hawke pulls me into a bone-crushing hug and the audience erupts, shouting, catcalling, whistling their approval. “I missed you so much,” he says in my ear. My cheeks burn with embarrassment as the crowd continues to whoop and holler.

  When Hawke steps back, I want to cry at the loss of his body against mine. I feel exposed on stage in front of these strangers. But when his hands frame my face, callouses scratching the delicate skin, a shiver goes down my spine and my nervousness vanishes. Hawke leans in, touching his mouth to mine and suddenly, it doesn’t matter that twenty thousand people are watching. All that matters is I’m here with Hawke. I part my lips and he takes advantage, thrusting his tongue in deep, teasing me with that wicked piercing until my body is burning up all over.

  “All right, all right, break it up.” Adam has the mic back at the center of the stage and his guitar in his hands. Hawke gives me one last kiss before reluctantly stepping back.

  “Go backstage, Kate is there. Wait for me?” I look at the man I love and know I would do anything for him.

  “Yes. I’ll be there.” His grin is reward enough… for now.

  Later, he can show me in private how much he really missed me.

  Hawke

  Abby is silent in the car as I drive the half hour or so to my condo. Usually, I would ride with the guys in a limo to and from a concert. Tonight, I was holding out hope that Abby might forgive me for all the bullshit I put her through, so I drove myself this time.

  After Abby gave Kate hell for tricking her into going to the show and a brief reunion with the other guys, I all but dragged her out of the arena. The public declaration was only part one on tonight’s agenda. As terror-inducing as it was to announce my PTSD to the world, it won’t be anywhere near as difficult as what I have to do next.

  I take Abby’s hand and lead her to the elevator and down the hall to my place. Inside, I turn to ask if she wants anything to drink, but before I get a chance, Abby is wrapped around me, her mouth dragging scorching hot and wet up and down my neck.

  “Jesus,” I hiss in pleasure when she nips at my throat and drags her tongue over the sensitive bite. Holy hell. She took me from zero to sixty, my dick now rock hard and throbbing. “Wait.” Panting, I push Abby back. Shit, I hurt her feelings. “No, I want you, Abby. Isn’t it obvious?” Her eyes flick down the sizable bulge in my pants. “I want to talk first.”

  She stares at me, not saying anything.

  “I-I need to tell you everything.” My stomach clenches painfully. Calm down, Evans. “I want you to know why… why I was so… you know.” Shit. I drag a hand down my face. “Sit, okay?”

  Abby follows me to the living room and takes the seat next to me on the sofa. She slips her shoes off and curls her feet under her body. Huddled down with her arms across her chest, Abby assumes a defensive posture. She’s expecting the worst. And she should.

  Looking at her, so small and scared, I want to wrap my body around hers and say fuck it, that I don’t have to relive the worst day of my life. But I can’t. I have to do this. I need to do this. No more secrets.

  My pulse is racing, my heart pounding in my chest and my throat tightens. A knot forms in my gut. I swallow, pointedly avoiding her gaze. I’m afraid to tell her. She might see me as a monster and then that would be it. Abby would be gone for good.

  Breathe.

  Before I can change my mind, I tug my shirt over my head, exposing everything I am to her. Yeah, she’s seen the scars before, but she doesn’t know the story. The real story, not the bullshit printed in magazines.

  “It’s okay.” Abby’s hand reaches around my back, her fingers gently following the curve of my spine. I shudder from her touch. My entire torso and most of the skin on my arms is riddled with the faint spiderweb of scars. They’re small and most of them obscured by ink, but if anyone looks close, they would see the dozens and dozens of tiny cuts all over my body.

  The tattoos are my shield. A huge compass rose with no needle, no direction, that begins a few inches below my collar and spreads out over my shoulders. A trio of feathered wings creating a circle on one deltoid, and the red dragon I got when I was with Abby on the other. A short Welsh proverb is scrawled across my ribs. Various other artwork completes the sleeves on my arms, a flock of birds, Celtic knots, and skulls.

  “Abby, I didn’t want you to know, but I have to tell you. It’s why I was fucked up in here for so long.” I take my fist and knock the side of my head. She grabs my hand, pulling it to her mouth and gently kissing my knuckles. Our eyes meet and hers glisten.

  “Tell me, Hawke. You’ll feel better, I promise.”

  For a few moments, we simply st
are at each other. Without my glasses in the way, I can see every fleck of color in her blue eyes, a ring of dark indigo around the edges. I put my hands on the back of her head and pull her forward until she’s tucked into the curve of my neck. “I can’t look at you while I tell you.”

  “Whatever you need. Let’s lie down.” I nod, so she shuffles off the couch. I follow her wordlessly to the bedroom. My rumpled bed is unmade, as usual. Abby smiles before climbing on the bed and facing the windows. I curl up behind her, fitting my body to hers. The scent of her hair, the feel of her body, the fact that’s she’s here, they give me the strength to begin.

  “My family. They’re all dead, and for a long time, I believed it was my fault.”

  Abby doesn’t say a word, but I feel her flinch. I wait for a reaction, for something. Finally, she breaks the silence. “I-I’m sure you didn’t kill them,” she rasps, her voice shaky.

  “I’m learning to accept that it wasn’t my fault, but I went to a party.” I swallow past the lump that forms in my throat. “I hated those parties. Never wanted to go. Wasn’t ever interested, but I played the part. I hated the shallow snobs I hung out with.” I pause to collect my thoughts. Abby snuggles closer. “That night, I went with a girl from school whose dad worked with mine. To make my parents happy. When I got there, I took a dose of X and lost track of everything, partying until I passed out. By the time I woke up, everyone was gone.”

  I hear her sharp inhale, her back shuddering against my chest. The amount of pain Abby feels on my behalf is staggering. It makes me fall in love her even more.

  “I had to call my parents to come get me. They were coming home from a late dinner at a friend’s house. My sister was with them to visit with their daughter.” Abby sobs, turning in my arms to run her hands down my chest.

  I run a hand down her hair. “Shhhhhh, it’s okay, Bee. I have to do this.” I kiss the top of Abby’s head as she cries for me.