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The distraught tone of Hawke’s voice has me fully awake. I stand up and head for the patio door. Opening it a crack, I pause, listening to my best friend’s heated exchange.
“Mitch, stop fucking yelling at me!”
“No, I was only gone two hours!”
“Well fuck you! You’re supposed to be the one watching him! If you weren’t such a dick, maybe he’d be with you instead of me!”
“The fuck you are! He doesn’t want to see you, asshole!”
I stiffen. I didn’t tell Hawke anything about Mitch and me. He must have guessed what happened between us.
Steeling myself for the worst, I slide the door the rest of the way open and enter the kitchen. Before I can call out, Hawke comes barreling into the room, nearly knocking me down in his frantic state.
“Jesus fucking Christ. He’s here.”
Hawke’s tight expression relaxes a bit, relief evident in his unusual eyes. Mitch must say something on the other end of the line, because Hawke’s hand tightens around the phone and his mouth curves into a scowl.
“No.”
“Fuck you. He’ll call if he wants to talk to you.”
With that, Hawke ends the call and drops the phone into his pocket. He reaches out and yanks me into a hug, squeezing me tight. Shocked, it takes me a minute to wrap my arms around my best friend and hug him back. Hawke is not big on people being in his personal space. In fact, I’d say we’d only hugged once or twice in all the years I’ve known him.
“Shit, Gav. I thought you were dead or something,” he confesses, his voice cracking.
When Hawke finally releases me, he leans back on the counter, removes his glasses, and runs a tattooed hand down his face.
“What happened?” I ask, concerned with his level of distress. “I thought you were riding?”
“I was.” He lays the glasses on the countertop. “Then I got a call from Mitch. He’d been trying to reach you but you wouldn’t answer. I figured you just didn’t want to talk to him specifically, so I tried to reach you. No answer.” He glares at me accusingly.
My face heats up. “I was outside. My phone is—”
“On the couch,” he finishes for me, pulling my phone out of his pocket and holding it up.
Sheepishly, I take it from him. “Sorry.”
“Fuck, Gav. You gave us all a heart attack.” Hawke’s eyes shine and he swallows loudly. I feel like shit. Hawke has lost so much in his life. The thought of losing me must have been terrifying.
“I’m so sorry, Hawke. I didn’t think. I didn’t mean to…shit.”
He looks at the ground, scuffing his shoes on the mosaic stone floor. “Don’t do that again.”
“I won’t.” I realize something and pull my brows down in confusion. “What did Mitch want?”
“Oh.” Hawke blanches. “Ummmm, he got a package.”
“What do you mean? Mitch got a package? From the stalker?”
My mind can’t comprehend this information. No way. The guy wants me, not Mitch. Right?
“Yeah. He wouldn’t give me details, but it sounded like it was…similar to New York.” Hawke flicks his gaze up to me, but all I see is a bright white light surrounded by darkness. The darkness grows until the light becomes a tiny pinprick in the distance.
My last thought is that maybe I should have eaten something.
Then, nothing.
Mitch
