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“No, you don’t know what I went through.” His hand drops to his side. Those eyes though, the blue shimmers with anger. He could hurt me right now. He could kill me, and yet, I’m not walking away. He needs to see I’m not the monster my father is.
“Tell me,” I request in a tone which belies how afraid I am of him. Faking confidence is something I’ve had to learn to do. It’s come in handy now, and as I look up at Hawk, I know as much as he’s fighting his feelings, he can’t do so for much longer. The expression on his face tells me so, his brows pinched together, his mouth tense as the corner tip downward.
“You’re not ready—”
“Fuck not ready,” I bite out as anger overtakes me. I’m done being kept in the dark about what he’s experienced. “You can’t hide forever, Hawk.”
His hand slams into my chest as if he’s trying to push me away, but my back hits the door, the cool glass rattling behind me. It doesn’t hurt, but my breath is knocked from me momentarily.
“You see what I can do,” he threatens with a smirk. “I know you like being roughed up,” he tells me. “I’ll gladly do it, but there will be no pleasure for you.”
“Tell me the fucking truth,” I hiss, clenching my teeth painfully as my jaw ticks. I don’t move his hand; I don’t fight him. It’s what he wants me to do, but this time, I’m not giving in so easily. I stand tall.
We’re at a standoff, and I’m going to win.
Hawk thinks he knows me because I’m what he built up in his mind. It’s like children who think there’s a monster in the closet, or under the bed. They’re convinced it’s scary, it’s huge, and it’s coming for them.
But in all honesty, the monsters aren’t under the bed or in the closet.
They’re the faces you see every single day.
Those scary things you believe are hidden, are right before you. They walk in the light, in the sunshine. They show you love and affection in one moment and hate in the next. That’s what the real monsters are. Hawk knows it, and I know it too.
“It was so long ago,” he finally says as he lowers his hand, and I can breathe again. “I shoved it to the back of my mind.”
“I know the feeling.”
“It’s too difficult to fathom,” he mumbles. “You think if you lock it in a box and never think of it again you’re safe. It’s as if it’s out of sight and out of mind, all will be well. But it’s all a lie.”
I nod, but I don’t respond anymore. I’m too afraid if I do say something, he’ll stop talking. I need him to tell me the story so instead I remain silent. But my gaze never leaves him.
Hawk moves to the sofa and settles in. For a long moment, I don’t follow, but when he leans back, I know we’re in for the night. So, I lock the door and make my way to the sofa where he’s seated.
“I didn’t think I would ever hurt so much,” he tells me. “Even the time I spent in the Army wasn’t near the pain I’d experienced in my past. I left the service because it wasn’t helping my anger, it was only making it worse.”
“So you came back for Crow and Falcon?”
He nods. “They needed me more than I needed to be out there killing people. But I did find fighting helps ease the rage consuming me at times.” He’s never spoken like this to me before. Most times, I receive a grunt or a mumble of something but now he’s telling me what I need to hear.
“But it returns,” I say knowingly. “That need to expel whatever is eating you inside, it comes back time and again.”
Hawk’s gaze meets mine, and he finds a kindred spirit. It’s the same thing I feel when I need the rough, the manhandling. It’s strange how I focus the energy on sex, but it’s how I cope. It’s how I’ve always coped.
“Sometimes, it scares me how much I want it though. I’m afraid one day, I’ll do it to someone innocent.”
“You’re not a monster, Hawk,” I insist gently. “You’re a good person who went through something traumatic.”
His gaze snaps to mine. “Every single time I’m in the ring, I picture your father in there with me. I see his face in every man I beat up. I enjoy it. The blood lust, the violence courses through me. It makes me livid, but it also satiates my craving.”
I don’t want to venture into his darkness. I don’t want to make him say anything he doesn’t want to. Instead of demanding he tell me everything, I whisper, “Will you tell me what happened now?”
