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Chapter Eleven
Betty
The clouds have closedin over the mountains, and it’s been raining for hours. Hawk has set a fire inside, but I’m still sitting on the front porch, curled up on the swing beneath a blanket. I stare out at the empty driveway through the raindrops, replaying the scene from two days ago over and over in my head. Lewis’s call. Me picking up.
Me believing him.
Then I’m running out to meet the car—practically skipping, for heaven’s sake—when Hawk has done nothing but warn me about staying safe, staying secure. When he tried everything he could to protect me. Of course, he never mentioned I might be in danger from Mr. Grimm’s own flesh and blood, but that shouldn’t matter. I should have listened. I should have been more afraid.
Well, I’m afraid now.
I pull the blankets more closely around me, trying desperately not to cry. I know I’m safe, that Hawk will protect me, but since we left that horrible spot on the mountain, I’ve felt less and less secure whenever he’s not in the room. I try to hide it from him, but even now, the only reason I’m able to hold it together out here on the porch by myself is because I’m literally holding myself together with the edges of this blanket.
How can he forgive me? And how can I forgive myself?
And why was I ever so stupid to believe the world could be a wide and wonderful place?
The door opens beside me, and I look up, scooting myself forward until my feet hit the smooth wood of the porch floor. “Hey,” I say quickly, straightening. “Do you need anything?”
“Yup,” Hawk says. “You good coming inside?”
“Of course.” I stand up and start to slide the blanket from my shoulders, then change my mind. It makes me feel secure, and even though Hawk’s right in front of me, I find I still want its comfort. Hawk holds the door open for me and I step into the house, smiling as I take in the huge fire he’s built in the fireplace.
“Oh, that’s perfect!” Now I do pull the blanket away from my shoulders and fold it up on the couch, before moving forward to the pillows Hawk has laid out on the floor. He also has cute little bowls of cheese and crackers and an open bottle of wine, and I sigh, my heart fluttering a little. This almost reminds me of—
No, I tell myself sternly. No more stupid stories.
Hawk waits until I settle on the cushions, then closes the door and walks over to me. He sinks his big body onto the pillows beside me, then pulls me close. Just feeling his strong arms around me makes me unwind further, and I sigh against him, finally relaxing.
“Betty, we need to talk,” he murmurs, brushing his lips over my hair.
I tense up immediately. “Why? What did I do wrong?”
He keeps his arms snug around me. “You didn’t do anything wrong, honeybee. But here I go and lay out the exact spread that you told me about in your Snowbound in the Alps daydream, and you don’t even recognize it? You don’t even give me props for remembering?”
“Oh, Hawk.” I can’t help the tears that spring to my eyes, and when I turn in his arms this time, he lets me.
“Honeybee,” he says, his voice catching as he sees my face. “Why are you crying?”
“I just—I feel so terrible, about everything. I let you down, I almost got myself k-killed, I don’t even know if I can ever walk down the street without being scared again, let alone, let alone—” I hiccup in misery, unable to bring myself to say the words out loud. How long have I dreamed about traveling the world? Now those dreams are all broken and ruined.
I don’t know what happened to Lewis Grimm, and I don’t care. He was an awful, terrible man who betrayed his father. But he did more than scare me that day. He stole my hope from me.
“Betty,” Hawk says again, and I don’t realize I’ve dropped my gaze to my hands until he reaches out and tips up my chin with his finger. His eyes are infinitely gentle as he gazes at me, and somehow that only makes me feel worse. “I can’t have you be sad, honeybee. And we can’t stay cooped up here the rest of your life. Not even the rest of the week.”
“But how will we stay safe?” My words are barely a whisper.
“Exactly the same way we’ve always stayed safe. I’ll protect you. We can go anywhere in the world you want to go, anywhere you can imagine. I don’t care if that’s New Zealand, or Bali, or the Alps, or the French Quarter during Mardi Gras. I’ll be right by your side, the whole way. You do what I ask, listen to what I say, and let me protect you the way I’m trained to do, okay? You do that, and the world is ours.”
“You sure?” I ask tremulously. “You said Bali was a security nightmare and New Zealand…I can’t remember what you said about New Zealand.”
Hawk laughs softly. “It rains there. A lot. But listen to me.” He stares into my eyes until I wipe away the tears again. “All I want is for you to be happy. If that means taking you anywhere in the world you want to go, and seeing the lights of exotic cities reflected in your eyes, or to watch you dance to the beat of music you’ve never heard before, or hear you gasp in wonder as you see a place you’ve only read about on the internet…then I’m more than in, Betty. Because while you want to see the world—you are my world. And nothing and no one will ever take you away from me.”
He reaches down and takes my hand, and I realize I’m shaking still, but no longer out of fear. “Oh, Hawk.” I’m half-laughing, half-crying now, but I don’t know how to stop. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Then just say you’re mine, honeybee.” Hawk smiles, his own eyes mirror bright. “That’s all you ever have to do.”
