by Kenya Wright
She’s crazy in love.
The rain picked up so much that the woman and Hawk’s house became distorted images in front of me. I hoped the blonde had run for safety and wondered where her dark-haired lover was. But something about seeing her and thinking of Hawk made me think of his past words.
“I would be your death wish. You should guard your heart, when I’m around.”
It had done a world of good to return to Key West. My sister and Victor had been excellent company. Any time I felt sad or alone, I could bother them.
Who does Hawk have to bother? Not Brett. Every time I’ve seen him, he’s been with some chick or chugging down a bottle of liquor. Hawk is always alone. Or maybe he isn’t.
Somehow, the cozy warmth of my sister’s kitchen made me feel guilty. Hawk must’ve been dealing with great pain. He’d said he couldn’t sleep.
“When I’m sliding the paint onto the canvas, I remember the good things about me.”
Now, everything made sense. He’d seemed more intense since I’d seen him last. Everything about him came off darker. No wonder he no longer considered commitment or an emotional relationship. It might’ve been hard to want a normal relationship when your ex had been killing people around you for years.
My phone buzzed.
Annoyed, I pulled it out and looked at the screen. I’d expected it to be Greg. He’d still been harassing me about those books, threatening legal action if I didn’t ship them to him.
However, a strange number glowed on the screen.
Unknown: This is Hawk. I just wanted to tell you that I enjoyed our time together. Let’s do it again?
I knew why Victor and Cindy didn’t want me to be around Hawk. They were just looking out for me and making sure that I didn’t fall too fast for the wrong guy. I could understand, but they were mistaken. There was no way I would leave Hawk alone. I couldn’t give him space, not after hearing about all the pain he’d gone through.
While I was adamant about no sex, if painting made him feel good, then I would model the hell out of this fall. As far as I was concerned, he could paint me while I ate, slept, wrote, and whatever else inspired him to get out of bed and play on the canvas.
If there was one thing I knew for sure, doing any form of art could be cathartic whether writing down a poem, song, or just two words over and over. The focused process of creating something, no matter how big or small, brought psychological relief to the creator.
I got your back, Hawk.
I typed in my response.
Me: I had fun too. When do you want to paint me again?
Hawk: Tomorrow?
Me: Sounds good.
A few minutes went by and he hadn’t said anything else. I was just about to put the phone down when it buzzed again.
I swiped the screen and checked the message.
Hawk: Dinner afterwards?
The sadness left my chest as my heart warmed. My frown shifted into a grin. We really shouldn’t even be thinking about dinner or anything more than painting. That kiss had almost trapped me into saying yes. If we did eat next time, I would keep my distance.
Everything will be fine. Stop being a punk.
I typed in my response.
Me: Dinner sounds good. Count me in.
I put my phone away and promised myself that tomorrow, it would be dinner and nothing more.
Details of those murders ran in my head. It was hard to shake all that dark news away. Instead of making myself a cup of tea like I usually did, I opened the fridge and pulled out Victor’s bottle of spiced rum. He loved it cold and always had a small sip at the end of the night. Luckily, there was another unopened bottle because I planned on finishing the one I’d grabbed.
Yeah. It’s going to be a drinking evening tonight. Damn it, God. Why did you have to let Hawk get hurt?
I twisted off the cap and took a swig. The liquid burned my throat, but it was just what I needed to help me forget all the horror I’d read.
Thunder boomed off in the distance as I headed upstairs.
How can the world be so cruel?
Chapter 8
Hawk
The rhythm of the rain beating against my window served as my painting music for the night.
After our kiss, I couldn’t get Yaz’s lips out of my mind. I spent the rest of the evening painting them. So plump and soft, they were the center focus of this piece and took up the whole canvas.
Brett ducked his head into my studio. “Got a minute?”
“Yeah.” I set the paintbrush down.
He dragged a big box inside. “Oh good. You’re painting.”
“Yeah.”
He got to my side and stared at the painting of Yaz’s lips. “What are you working on?”
“A battle with my subconscious.”
“Who’s winning?”
Remaining silent, I added red to those sexy lips.
He tapped my shoulder and gestured at the box. “Here’s some flashlights and candles just in case this rain turns into a tropical storm. I have Vera spending the night. She shouldn’t be out in the streets at night. She’s fucking up there in age, man. She really shouldn’t be driving at all, but I can’t tell her nothing. Do you think you could talk to her?”
“Yeah right. Vera will be driving until she’s a hundred.”
“Yeah.”
An unsettling silence descended on us. Brett had clearly come in here for something else beyond flashlights and storm preparation.
“So...” Brett sighed. He didn’t do that much. Whatever he had to tell me wouldn’t be good.
I stopped painting and looked at me. “Just say it.”
He held onto the box like it was armor. “Look. You told me to take care of the...Lisa stuff, so I don’t have to say anything, if you don’t want to.”
My nerves went on edge. “Lisa? What’s going on?”
“You don’t need to hear this. I can take care of it without you needing to know anything.”
“Tell me.” I studied Yaz’s lips on my canvas, wondering what touch-ups I could do.
“The warden contacted me. Apparently, Lisa has written you several letters. The warden wanted to know what he should do with them.”
I kept my gaze on Yaz’s lips. I wouldn’t let the darkness come to me, no matter how much my fingers itched to embrace it. I’d been feeling good and now I had to be reminded of that sick bitch. I didn’t even look his way as I kept Yaz’s lush mouth in my focus. “Did the warden say what the letters were about?”
“No. It’s probably her asking for forgiveness.”
“I doubt it.”
“I can get rid of them.”
“No, have them sent here.”
Silence bridged between us.
“Hawk?”
I looked at him with no humor on my face. “Do it.”
“You’ve been doing good in the past days. Don’t fuck that up.”
“It’s fine. I want to know what she’s saying. If I don’t, then it’ll fuck me up even more.”
Concern crossed his face. “I don’t like this.”
“It is what it is.”
Brett finally set the box next to my easel and studied the image. “Okay. This is sexy. Whose lips are these?”
“You know whose lips these are.”
Brett’s expression relaxed. “I saw you walking with Yaz today.”
“I would’ve thought you were busy with one of your girls.”
“I was. Olessia was the one to notice. She pointed your way.”
“Olivia,” I corrected. “Her name is Olivia. Who would name their daughter Olessia? It sounds like cheap hand soap.”
“Who would name their child Olivia? Whatever. This is why Olivia likes you because you can remember her name.”
“Yeah. Women are tricky like that.” I picked up the brush and went back to painting.
“Well, I have to get rid of Olivia. She’s taking up too much of my time and showed up a few nights unannounced. I hate that. Call before yo
u come. It’s rude to just show up.”
“Especially, since she showed up when you were having a threesome.”
“Exactly. Rude. And besides, Vera doesn’t like her and curses in Spanish every time she sees her. She keeps on walking around the kitchen naked.”
I dabbed some color on the bottom lip. “The nudity is a bit much.”
The doorbell rang.
We both looked at each other.
“Are you expecting somebody?” I asked.
“No.” Brett shook his head. “I have two freaks safely in my room due to the storm. We’ll try not to make too much noise this evening.”
“That could be your beloved, Olessia better known as Olivia.”
“I doubt it. She just cursed me out on the phone and told me to never call her again. I’d been hoping for her to join me and the two girls in a good old-fashioned foursome, but the storm must’ve made her grumpy.”
My words dripped with sarcasm. “Yeah, I’m sure it was the storm that made her mad.”
“Funny.”
“I’ll get it. Vera goes to sleep at nine most of the time.” I put the brush down, headed to the doorway, and checked my watch.
It’s almost midnight. Who could it be?
I rushed downstairs and got my answer when I opened the door.
A very drunk Yaz stood in the doorway with a bottle of half drunken liquor in her hand and the scent of alcohol swirling around her.
“Yaz?”
“What it do, motherfucker?!”
“Whoa.”
She blinked and then frowned. “Sorry. That sentence sounded so much cooler in my head.”
“You’re fine,” I said. “I was just—”
She placed a finger to my mouth. “Shh.”
I looked down at her hand as it rested on my face.
“It’s late,” she whispered.
“Yes, but that’s fine. I’m up and—”
“Shh.” She gently tapped my lips again. “Come on. This won’t take long. It just stopped raining because I feel better.”
It stopped raining because she feels better? How drunk is she?
“O-kay.” I’d forgotten to put on my slippers up in the studio. I checked her feet and she didn’t have on shoes either. “Where are we going?”
She handed me the bottle. “Drink some.”
“What is this?”
“Rum.” A serious expression hit her face. “You must drink it.”
Laughing, I grabbed the bottle and took a long gulp. “Happy?”
“Very happy.”
As always, the moonlight made her eyes glow, but this time they didn’t look as magical as before. They looked sad and gloomy.
“What’s wrong, Cherry Bomb?”
“You’re going to be upset with me, so you might as well take another drink.”
Worried about what she would say, I took another swig. Had she decided not to model for me? Was she leaving? Was she going to give her ex another chance?
I handed her back the bottle. “What’s going on?”
She just gestured for me to follow and walked away.
“Yaz?!”
“Come on.”
Shaking my head, I followed. A cool breeze slipped through my hair, wet sand clung to my feet. The clouds had cleared away and bright silver stars sparkled in the night sky. Although the weather had calmed, ocean waves continued to crash against each other.
What’s on her mind?
Together, we walked in silence for barely two minutes, and then we stopped right where I’d reunited with her nights ago. The ground was now a dark circle and nothing more.
She stood near there, but didn’t sit down.
Darkness surrounded us. Besides the distant lights from her sister’s property and mine, our sandy path was shadows dancing under a full moon. The waves crashed with the melodies of nature. The breeze harmoniously whipped through the tall patches of beach grass behind us.
When I couldn’t deal with the silence anymore, I asked. “What’s wrong, Yaz?”
She drank from the bottle and then turned those sad eyes my way. “So, I didn’t break our promise exactly.”
Confused, I asked. “What promise?”
“The...well...okay. So...” She sighed and took another drink. “Just never mind. The point is that I’m going to heal you.” She stumbled back, and I grabbed her. She waved my hand away and pointed at my chest. “Fuck me and my broken heart. My focus is on you, because you are my friend, and we started this journey together.”
“What journey?”
Silent, she looked up at the stars and said nothing more.
I pulled her close to me. My nerves stood on edge. I had no idea what happened to her, but something had changed since I’d seen her last.
“Yaz, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”
She looked at me, right as her eyes watered. “Hawk, I’m so sorry.”
It was something about the way she said it. Something about the way her gaze filled up with water and threatened to spill over her lids. I’d seen the same expression from my brothers, mother, and aunts as well as every fucking stranger that I’d bumped into in Manhattan.
No.
I let her go. “You know?”
She nodded. “Cindy told me.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, wanting to go somewhere and hide. This wasn’t how my time with Yaz was supposed to be. Her light was supposed to be my vacation from the madness. She wasn’t supposed to walk hand-and-hand into the darkness with me.
“Hawk,” she whispered. “I’m–”
“Don’t you fucking say it, Yaz. I don’t want you to feel bad for me.”
She swallowed. “Okay.”
A tear fell.
“Damn it.” I pulled her against me and wrapped her in my arms. “Don’t you fucking cry about me either. I’m fine.”
She buried herself against my chest. “I want to kill her.”
“I don’t want any more death.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.” I held her tighter to me. “Is this why you’re so drunk?”
“I’m not drunk.”
“You smell like liquor and you’re out here in the middle of the night screaming out, ‘What it do, motherfucker?’ I would say you’re at least tipsy.”
She raised her head to mine. “I’m going to heal you, Hawk.”
“Oh God.”
“I am.” She got out of my hold. “We’re going to paint and dance and sail in the water and do things that are going to lift your mood.”
Part of me wanted to argue with her and say it wouldn’t work. The other part thought any activity with her would be a damn good idea. However, my stubbornness won over happiness.
“I’m fine. I’m healed.”
“Bullshit.” She took a swig from the rum.
“Give me that.” I held my hand out. “No more rum.”
“Eh!” She backed away with the bottle in the air. “Don’t get knocked out.”
I smiled. “You’ve got some liquid courage and now you think you can fight me?”
“You’re changing the topic.” She targeted me with her gaze. “Will you let me heal you?”
“Oh God.”
“I’m going to sage your bedroom and studio and—”
“Sage?”
“Yeah. When you burn it, the herb clears away negative energy and spirits—”
“So, you’re saying I have demons hanging around me now?”
“Joke all you want, but when I show up with my lighter and herbs, it’s on.”
I saluted her. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”
She glared at me.
“Alright.” I held my hands up. “I’m taking you serious. I’ll let you burn stuff in my room.”
She drank some more. As soon as she moved it from her mouth, I grabbed it.
“Hey!”
I held it away from her. “You’re done.”
“I’m not.”
I took the bottle t
o my mouth and finished the rest of it. The liquid burned away my throat and any feeling of embarrassment I had from Yaz knowing what had happened.
“Really?” Yaz said.
“You’re done. Now, let’s get you home.”
“But we haven’t skinny-dipped yet.”
“What?” I chuckled. “No.”
“But, that’s the first part of healing.” She began to pull down her sundress and I stood there frozen, unable to find the gentleman in me to stop her.
“We have to get naked,” she said. “Let the moonlight glow against our skin, and then jump in the water.”
The sundress dropped to the sand. She wore a pink bra and bikini. Her skin looked as soft as the silky material of those garments. Her nipples went stiff and poked through the bra’s silk. My cock went hard, and my words left me. In my head, a war played out between my hormones and the right thing to do. My cock believed that sex was just what Yaz needed this evening. My brain demanded I calm down and get control of the situation.
“Take off your clothes, Hawk.” She stumbled off to the shoreline. “Come on!”
It took me several seconds to register what had just happened.
Fuck. Behave, man. She’s drunk. Don’t even think about it.
“Wait.” I set the bottle down and ran after her. “We’re not skinny-dipping.”
She looked over her shoulder, laughed, and increased her pace, her ass jiggling beautifully with each drunken little step. Had she not been drinking, she might’ve outrun me. But she was wasted and not even moving in a straight line.
I caught Yaz before her feet hit the water, picked her up, and carried her back to where I’d put the bottle down. “No more rum for you, ever.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” I set her down and tried to hold her arm. “We’re—”
She darted out of my reach and ran back to the water. “Just once, Hawk!”
“Damn it.” I ran back after her, now feeling the effects of all the rum I’d chugged down. “I forgot how annoying you are when you’re drunk.”
She ran to the water as it rose to her knees and then lowered. Salty bubbles rolled forward and then lazily floated back. Thankfully, she didn’t go any further as she gazed at the stars in the sky. Moonlight danced on the watery surface.