“What are you doing here?” Dad asked Ginger, his eyes narrowed on her, apparently unsurprised and unconcerned that Hawk was standing in his hallway in the middle of the night, bare-chested and barefoot with the top button on his cargos undone.
For my part, I was unsurprised that Ginger was dressed like Darla had been yesterday except she was wearing a camisole laced up the front and it was at least one, maybe two sizes too small so the lacing gaped and it showed skin and a hint of boob. She also wasn’t wearing fishnets but tights that had big holes and runs in them everywhere. And she also really needed a refresh on her makeup since her mascara and eyeliner were giving her raccoon eyes. Lastly, her curly strawberry blonde hair was the definition of a rat’s nest.
My sister. Serious skankage.
“I grew up here,” Ginger snapped back and Hawk stepped back, dropping his arm and moving to me.
“Yeah, but the last time you were here I think I made myself clear you weren’t welcome back,” Dad returned and my eyes slid to Meredith to see she was standing there, both arms wrapped around her belly, her pixie-pretty face pale and her lip quivering.
Seeing that, my gaze moved back and I mentally speared my sister with imaginary giant, African tribal lances.
“Fuck, I just need a fuckin’ shower and somethin’ to eat. I’ve got some shit goin’ down, you can’t even let me have a fuckin’ shower?” Ginger shot back.
“Mouth, Ginger,” I warned because Meredith hated it when we cursed. She said ladies didn’t curse. Of course I cursed in my head and sometimes they came out of my mouth but I never did it in front of Meredith.
Ginger leaned toward me and hissed, “Fuck you, Gwennie.”
“It’s the middle of the night,” Dad butted in to inform her.
Her head jerked toward Dad. “So fuckin’ what?” Ginger returned.
“Ginger, remember who you’re speaking to,” I snapped at her and her eyes shot to me.
“Fuck you again.” Her eyes swept me then she asked, “What’re you even doin’ here?”
“Escapin’ your shit which leaked to her house last night,” Hawk replied and Ginger’s eyes sliced to him then to me then to Hawk then to Dad and Meredith.
“I see, I’m your daughter, I got shit goin’ down and I can’t even have any of your precious water to take a fuckin’ shower but Gwennie, sweet, wonderful, perfect Gwennie¸ she can crash here with her fuck buddy,” Ginger said to them and I sucked in breath as I felt Hawk’s body get tight beside mine.
Meredith snapped, “Ginger!”
“What?” Ginger snapped back. “You’re givin’ me shit about bein’ here in the middle of the night but Gwen, perfect Gwen, she can play with her fuck toy right next door and you don’t give a shit?” Ginger asked.
I sucked in another breath as fury radiated in a swell from Hawk, Dad’s face got so red I feared he’d have a heart attack but Meredith, she moved. She walked right up to Ginger and slapped her hard across the face, snapping Ginger’s head to the side.
Everyone moved then because Ginger lunged to attack Meredith. Dad pulled Meredith safe and Hawk pinned Ginger against the wall again with his hand at the same time he held me back from getting in a hair-pulling, bitch-slapping fight with my sister, doing this with his other hand in my belly.
I stopped pushing against him when Ginger fought him, kicking out at his legs with her feet (and not connecting) and tearing at his forearm with her tatty, peeling black painted nails (which I feared would inflict some damage) but he held her against the wall with one hand, his face set and tight, his jaw so hard it looked like it would shatter.
“Get your hand off me!” she shrieked.
“Calm the fuck down,” Hawk returned.
“I said get your fuckin’ hand off me!” Ginger repeated on a screech.
Then we heard it. Glass shattering. Everyone went still and stayed still except Hawk who, after his preliminary freeze, sprinted to the stairs. That was when we heard two more noises, glass breaking much quieter then two identical whooshes followed by two muted booms.
Then we saw the unmistakable dance of firelight from the stairs.
“Hawk!” I screamed, not thinking and dashing to the stairs.
Dad caught me around the belly with a strong arm and pulled me back. He tossed me behind him, lifted a finger in my face and ordered, “Stay here!”
Then he raced down the stairs.
“Bax!” Meredith cried but I moved.
I turned to her and yelled, “Go! Put on some shoes and a jacket. Get some for Dad.” When Meredith didn’t move, I screamed, “Go, go, go!”
Meredith turned and ran to her room and I turned to Ginger.
“Be smart,” I snapped. “Stay here.”
She glared at me and returned, “Bite me.”
I didn’t have time for Ginger so I didn’t give her any. I ran to the guest bedroom, pulled on my boots and grabbed Hawk’s boots and tee. I was lifting up when I collided with something and that something was Hawk. He had a blanket and he threw it around me, wrapping me up before I could twitch then I was lifted into his arms and we were moving.
I smelled smoke and felt heat and then I smelled fresh air and felt cold. I was put down on my feet and Hawk’s arms left me. I struggled with the blanket, still carrying his tee and boots and got my head clear just in time to see him race back into the house, barefoot and bare-chested. I shrugged off the blanket, dropped his boots and tee in the yard and rushed to the side of house, down the incline and jumped down the short wall to the walkway to Mrs. Mayhew’s apartment. I banged on her door and shouted because sometimes she didn’t hear too well and I kept doing it until the outside light went on and her door opened.
Peering up at me from her old lady height, her blue hair looking like it normally looked not like she’d been sleeping on it, she breathed, “Gwendolyn, what on –?”
I cut her off. “No time, Mrs. M, get a jacket, put on a pair of shoes. Quick, quick, quick! There’s a fire upstairs.”
I didn’t wait for her to obey. I ran into her house, shooing cats out and darted to her bedroom. I had her fleecy, old lady robe in my hands by the time she got to me and I threw it at her then rushed to the closet. I pulled out a pair of fur-lined snow boots, hooked her arm with mine and scuttled her out the door.
When we were outside she stopped and held on to me to keep herself steady while she tugged on her boots and by the time we made it to the front of the house, Meredith was there, a cell to her ear, her body wrapped in a blanket. But I stopped and stared when I saw Dog, of all freaking people, with Dad’s front garden hose going full throttle, aiming it at flames coming out of the front window of the house.
“Where’s Dad and Hawk?” I shouted at Meredith and she took the phone from her ear and replied, “They’re in there. Bax got the fire extinguishers.”
Shit!
My father had been a volunteer firefighter for ten years. He had fire extinguishers everywhere. He and Hawk were so totally the kind of macho idiots who would try to battle a blaze with fucking fire extinguishers.
I sucked in breath, told myself panic wouldn’t help anyone, nor would a screaming hissy fit, both of which I wanted very badly to do.
Then I pulled a quaking Mrs. Mayhew closer to my side and asked Meredith, “Ginger?”
Meredith shook her head and her eyes slid to the side of the house where the tree that Ginger used regularly to sneak out of the house was planted. Dad had threatened to cut down that tree down a million times but since there was another one on the other side of the house, Meredith refused to allow it, said the house would look wonky.
Now, even though my sister was a complete and total bitch, I was glad he didn’t because I knew she escaped down that tree.
This clashed with my thoughts that she took off and left her mother and me up there and didn’t say a word or think of another person in her family. Especially after my childhood home was firebombed because of her fucking shit.
I held Mrs. Mayhew closer and s
tared at the house, willing Dad and Hawk to come out as Dog kept the hose aimed in the window.
The sirens could be heard and the firemen came and it took them approximately a millisecond to get their shit sorted and start battling the blaze. Dad came out wearing a coat and boots but Hawk emerged from the dancing flames still bare-chested and barefoot.
I rushed to his boots and tee and met him with them in my hands.
He threw an arm around me and guided me to the sidewalk where my parents and Mrs. Mayhew were standing, now with Dog.
Hawk yanked his tee over his head but spoke as he tugged it down his abs.
“Wanna tell me why the fuck you’re here?” he clipped at Dog.
“Orders,” Dog replied.
“Gwen or Ginger?” Hawk asked.
“Gwen,” Dog answered.
Hawk’s face got tight but I was too busy freaking out because it was also covered in soot.
Therefore I got close and put my hands on his abs.
“Baby,” I whispered, leaning carefully into him and looking up, “you okay?”
He looked down at me. “Yeah,” he grunted.
“You sure? You’re not burned anywhere?”
He had looked down at me but he hadn’t focused on me but then, he focused on me.
His arm slid around my shoulders and he pulled me closer.
“I’m good, Gwen,” he muttered to me then his eyes went to the house.
My eyes went to the house too. Then my arms slid around his middle, I pressed in close and I rested my cheek on his pectoral. That was when his other arm closed around me.
Neighbors came out, Dad, Meredith and Mrs. Mayhew moved close and we watched the firefighters battle the blaze.
Chapter Ten
Pros and Cons
I woke up but kept my eyes closed as I lay in my bed feeling bright, Denver sunlight against my eyelids.
Then I reached out a hand and slid it across my bed.
I was alone, Hawk was gone.
I slid my hand back, tucked both under my cheek and curled my legs into my belly as I opened my eyes.
There were people in my house, the kitchen. I knew that because my bedroom was over the kitchen and I heard low murmurs drifting up from there.
This was likely Meredith and the commandos. She was probably making them homemade donuts they would refuse to eat and regaling them with stories of my former boyfriends (none of whom, except Hawk, she actually liked but she never told me that until I’d dumped them or they’d dumped me).
Dad was probably at work. His house had been firebombed, he’d battled the blaze then he’d watched firefighters battle the blaze then he’d talked to the police then one of Hawk’s boys came in an SUV, Hawk loaded Meredith, Dad, Mrs. Mayhew and me in it and Hawk’s boy (this one who looked half-wrestler, half-giant, was named “Mo”) whisked Mrs. Mayhew to her friend Erma’s place and Dad, Meredith and me to my house. Dad had taken a shower while Meredith and I pulled out the couch in my office and made the bed. Dad and Meredith hit the sack, I hit the sack and sometime later, likely right before the break of dawn, I felt Hawk hit the sack next to me. He’d rolled into me, curled deep but I fell back to sleep before I knew whether or not he was in dreamland.
Even with all of this I suspected Dad was still at work. The entire eastern seaboard could fall into the sea and Dad would go to work then get on the phone and call all his men and ask why they were still at home, grieving over loved ones and the loss of national monuments as the country came to grips with a colossal tragedy. Then he’d tell them they should be on the site, there was work to be done.
Of course, he only had his pajama bottoms and coat but that wouldn’t stop him.
I closed my eyes and sighed.
Detective Mitch Lawson had showed last night. He’d talked to Hawk first, then Dad and Hawk, then Meredith and me. When he got to Meredith and me he mostly wanted to know if we were all right and didn’t ask probing questions. Then he’d given my arm a reassuring squeeze as he gazed into my eyes, his intense (but still soulful) then he took off.
Dog had disappeared prior to the cops and Lawson showing up. This was why Hawk didn’t come with us to my house. Hawk went to find Dog. I didn’t know why but I didn’t ask questions. I was in an extremely rare Do As I’m Told Mood so when Hawk got bossy, I didn’t give him lip. I did exactly what he ordered me to do. I got in his boy’s SUV, got my family to warmth and safety, got them settled and went to bed.
On that thought, my eyes tipped down the bed and I saw Hawk walk into the room. This surprised me. I thought he’d be out doing Hawk things, covertly gathering intel for top secret assignments, interrogating suspects in windowless rooms made of cement, beating infidels into submission, stuff like that.
It also surprised me he had on a fresh pair of Army green cargo pants and a skintight, but clean, long-sleeved burgundy tee. Guess his boys delivered changes of clothes. I wondered if they took orders and had credit at Nordstrom’s. If they did, this would be on the pro side of my Should I Explore Things with Cabe “Hawk” Delgado List.
Hawk’s eyes didn’t leave me as he walked to the bed, sat on his side of it and leaned deep, his torso across the bed, his forearm in it, his face ending up close to mine.
“How you doin’, Sweet Pea?” he asked quietly.
“Can you do me a favor?” I asked quietly back.
“Depends,” he answered.
Figures.
“Next time you’re in a house that’s firebombed, can you pause to put on a shirt and shoes before you sally forth into the inferno?”
I watched from close as he grinned and his dimples popped out.
Then his eyebrows went up. “Sally forth?”
“Okay, you didn’t sally, you raced. You know what I mean.”
Something about his face changed and I couldn’t put my finger on it because his eyes moved to my hair. Then he fell to his front, bracing his weight on his opposite forearm as he lifted his other hand. He ran his fingers along my hairline, down around my ear and he shifted the hair off my neck. Then his eyes came to mine.
I held my breath because they were heated and intense like at dinner last night.
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he whispered and I wanted to tear my eyes from his, I really did, I just couldn’t. “You were worried about me.”
“You were fighting a fire in a pair of cargo pants,” I explained, trying to sound casual and probably failing.
His heated, black eyes held mine for a long time, so long I felt my lungs start to burn.
Then he said, “All right, next time I’m in a house that’s firebombed, I’ll put on a shirt and boots before I tackle the inferno.”
“Thanks,” I whispered.
His eyes moved over my face then he asked, “Now that we got that outta the way, you wanna answer my question?”
“What question?”
“How you doin’?”
“I’m fine.”
His eyes held mine again for several long seconds before he whispered, “Liar.”
“I am,” I decreed.
“Gwen, baby, you’re curled in a protective ball again.”
Shit. I was.
I uncurled and pushed up, taking pillows with me so I could rest against my headboard. Hawk moved too, pulling himself up and in so his hip was beside mine and his weight was leaning into his hand on the other side of me.
“Is Meredith downstairs?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Is she making homemade donuts?” I asked.
“Is that a hopeful question or a serious one?” he asked in return.
I had to admit, it was hopeful, but I would only admit that to myself.
Therefore, I didn’t speak.
He grinned again and answered, “No, she’s makin’ eggs and bacon.”
Meredith made good eggs and bacon but her donuts were better.
“Do I have eggs and bacon to make?”
“Apparently, since she’s doin’ it in her
nightgown and your robe and she doesn’t have a car and neither do you so it’s doubtful she went out and hit a store.”
I probably did have bacon and eggs. At least eggs, they were a standard ingredient in all kinds of cookie dough.
“Where’s Dad?” I asked.
“Some guy named Rick came an hour ago with a change of clothes then took your Dad to work.”
See!
“My Dad’s a nut,” I muttered.
He lifted a hand and nabbed a lock of my hair, tugging it then his hand fell while I thought that was a sweet thing to do.
Hawk could be sweet. Hawk was a cuddler. Hawk saved my life or, at least, delivered me safely out of a burning building.
All three for the pro side of the Should I Explore Things with Cabe “Hawk” Delgado List.
Shit.
That was what I was thinking before he asked a question that would explain why he was being sweet.
“You want the good news or the bad news?”
Great. There was bad news.
“Can I have the good news and you tell me the bad news in the next millennium?”
“Sure,” he agreed and I didn’t think that was good.
“The bad news,” I mumbled.
His face got serious. “Ginger got away.”
My face, I was sure, got confused. “What?”
“She got away.”
“From what? The fire?”
“That and the guys who firebombed your house to smoke her out.”
Oh shit.
“They didn’t firebomb my house to kill her?”
“Babe, my car was at your curb.”
“So?”
“You think they’d think I’d let anyone in that house die?”
I crossed my arms on my chest and stared at him. “I know you’re a step down from superhero, Hawk, but seriously?”
Mystery Man Page 11