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She’d moved to the other side of the booth after Gus left. Hawk had a straight- on view of her face as she blew out a sigh between puffed cheeks. “I really don’t know, to be honest. I’m all over the place. I can’t seem to wrap my head around any of it. My grandfather lied to me my entire life, and yet everyone else thinks he was a good man. He supposedly didn’t have a choice, but he used the money he made from the club or society or whatever it’s called to enjoy life. Does that make him a good person or a bad one?”
“I think that makes him human.” Hawk leaned back. “I stopped trying to sort out good from bad a long time ago. The world is shades of gray. There’s nothing black or white about it. Worrying about whether your grandfather was a good man doesn’t matter. What’s important is that he was good to you. And what matters more right now is that we find his token.”
Remy rubbed her face. “Yeah, I know, but I can’t seem to come up with any ideas about that either.” She dropped her hands onto the table. “What time is it? It feels like it should be midnight.”
“A little after five.”
“Jesus. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”
Hawk nodded. He knew what that felt like. Being on edge, adrenaline pumping at random times, no real relaxation because even when there was an opportunity to lay down and rest, the mind just kept on chugging. He’d spent too many days, weeks, months like that when he was in the SEALs. When the crash came, it was usually brutal.
The one thing that usually worked to bring him down enough to sleep was sex. There were always women, fellow soldiers, who were in the same boat. Everyone knew the score. It was just sex. A physical release that allowed the body to shut down and sleep.
The idea of having sex with Remy was so damn appealing he was struggling not to grab her hand and pull her up the stairs. Fuck, he was turning into some kind of Neanderthal around this woman. All he wanted to do was protect her and bed her, but not necessarily in that order. He mentally gathered the tethers of his control, ordering himself to get his shit together.
“Why don’t I get the key to the room upstairs, and you can go up and get settled? I know you don’t have any clothes so I will go buy some for you while you rest up.”
“I couldn’t let you do that.”
He snorted. Maybe it was because he was lusting after her and he couldn’t have her, or maybe it was because he was tired and frustrated. But whatever it was, he was done being nice. She needed to understand the gravity of the situation.
“We went over this before; you need do what I say and stop questioning me. These are not normal times. I’ve been trying to cushion things for you because you’ve been through a lot, but the reality is we can’t go back to your place or mine to get what we need. People will be watching. Those guys didn’t want to chat with you. I’m guessing they wanted you dead. Your grandfather has a token, and they want it. You are just in the way.”
She paled out at his words. A sudden wrench in his gut startled him, but she was overdue for a reality check.
Ignoring the churn in his stomach, he continued, “I’m pretty sure I can run out and get toiletries and clothes for us without being seen, but I won’t let you risk the trip. So, what I’m telling you is you need to get your ass upstairs where I know you’ll be safe because Connor over there is a former Special Forces guy who’s not going to let anything happen to you. I will get what we need and be back quickly.”
She frowned. “Listen I—”
“Enough.” He rapped his knuckles on the table making sure he had her complete attention. “You need to do what I tell you because you want to stay alive. Get over being pissed off at my tone. No more coddling, do you understand? It’s too dangerous.”
She reared back like he’d slapped her. Maybe he’d gone too far, but he needed her to understand her precarious situation. It didn’t hurt if she was angry at him because that would create distance between them and, right now, if he was going to keep her alive, he needed space to keep a clear mind.
“Fine,” she said through clenched teeth.
They stood up, and Hawk threw enough money on the table to cover the bill and leave a hefty tip for Siobhan. When he walked over to the end of the bar, Connor shuffled over and handed him the keys. “Let me know if ya need anything.”
“Will do.” Hawk went through the door to the stairwell, making sure Remy was behind him. At the top of the stairs, he turned right. He put the key in the lock of the first door on the left. He opened the door and moved out of the way so Remy could enter.
She glowered at him as she walked into the room, but then she gasped. He entered quickly to make sure nothing was wrong. His sixth sense hadn’t triggered, but he needed to be sure. Remy stood there staring. “I thought it would be……I guess I don’t know what I expected. Certainly not this.”
Hawk looked around the room. A large king-size bed made out of mahogany with matching bedside tables dominated the space. The comforter was white with splashes of big, colorful flowers. The floor was wide planks that shone with a high gloss that was partially covered by a rug that also had flowers on it. The wallpaper was cream with gray swirls. There was a desk and chair across from the dresser, and an armchair in the corner by the window. The space looked like a high-end hotel room, which suited Hawk fine. The duffel bag on the desk was of more interest to him than anything else.
“There’s a bathroom over there.” He pointed to the door in the corner.
Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve stayed here before.”
He nodded. “A few times.” He didn’t bother to mention it was because he and Connor had gotten shit-faced together, and there was no way he could manage to get home on his own. He walked over to the desk, opened the duffle bag, and pulled out a Glock. He checked the magazine, and weighed the weapon in the palm of his hand, then tucked it into the waistband of his jeans underneath his blue sweater. Then he grabbed a pad of paper and pen from the top of the desk. “Write down your sizes. Please,” he added as an afterthought. He’d been abrupt with her, which is what she needed, but regret flowed like a river in him.
The lightness in her expression evaporated. He wasn’t sure if it was the gun or the fact that her current situation was starting to sink in, but she took the pad and pen and started writing. A minute later, she handed both back to him. “I’m going to take a long hot shower and then sleep.”
He nodded. “See you when I get back. Lock the door when I go. I have the key. If you need anything, call down to the pub and ask for Connor.”
She stood in the middle of the room with her arms crossed over her chest. “Fine.”
He turned and went out the door, closing it behind him. Maybe pissed off wasn’t better. She looked just as cute when she was angry as she did when she was smiling, and neither one was going to help him stay focused.
Two hours later, bags in his left hand to keep his right free, he arrived back at the bar. Shopping had been a nightmare. He had no idea what she liked, and then got annoyed at himself for even worrying about it in the first place. He finally gave up and picked out stuff that looked comfortable and outdoorsy and hoped she might find them acceptable. The underwear thing had been more complicated. He’d never bought women’s underwear before. He’d never given thought to the many styles and cuts, instead focusing on getting a woman out of them. He bought her several pairs in each style and color. He hoped that at least one of them would be usable. Men’s styles were so much easier. Boxers, briefs, or boxer-briefs. Or commando. Too many options for women for sure.
