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“Oh, we have a thing?”
“Kind of seems that way.”
I look at the broken dishes at my feet and sigh, knowing I’m probably going to catch hell for yet more broken dishes. Unlike last time though, I guess this one is my fault.
“Let me help with this,” Hawk offers.
“No, it’s all right. You should get back to the guys.”
He shrugs. “We don’t have much in common and I think we’ve already exhausted the conversations about those things we do.”
As much as I want him to stay here and talk to me, I know that word is going to get back to Hammerhead, which will go worse for me than his anger about the broken dishes. Even still, knowing he’ll probably knock me around a little bit, there’s something in me that wants Hawk to stay anyway. There’s no explanation for it, I just feel such a sense of comfort around him.
In all the chaos around me, Hawk is like an island of calm.
It’s crazy. Insane. We barely know each other. To feel this way about somebody I don’t even know is ridiculous. I’m well aware of that. But he’s shown me nothing other than kindness and compassion in the short time we’ve known one another.
And maybe that’s what it is. Maybe it’s because he has shown me kindness in this world I’m stuck in, a world that’s shown me nothing but cruelty. Maybe that’s what’s leading me to feel stronger than I should. It’s possible. Maybe even likely.
When I look into his eyes though, I feel like there’s more to it than just that. He stirs something in me that I can’t describe, let alone understand. Hawk makes my heart race and my stomach churn with a sensation that almost makes me feel weightless. Like I’m falling from some great height, but I know it’s going to be okay because he’ll catch me.
It doesn’t make any sense, but I trust him. And I think he trusts me too.
Without waiting for me, he squats down and starts to pick up the jagged pieces that litter the floor. A faint smile touching my lips, I do the same.
“What the hell is goin’ on in here?”
We both look up and see Deadbolt, the Howlers’ Sergeant-at-Arms standing in the doorway. His eyes are shifting between me and Hawk with an expression on his face like he’d just walked in on us having sex or something.
“I dropped some dishes,” I tell him. “Hawk was nice enough to help me clean it up.”
“Yeah well, I don’t think Hammerhead’s going to like that.”
Hawk’s expression darkens and he stands up, turning to face him. “He won’t like that I’m helping clean up some broken dishes?” he asks, an eyebrow raised. “Is he really that insecure?”
Deadbolt flushes and opens his mouth to reply but then closes it again. He stands in the doorway, doing his best to look tough, but I know him well enough to know that he’s a coward. He’s famous for starting fights but having other people fight for him. He poses and postures like a tough guy but deep down, he’s afraid of almost everything. I’ve seen him do it more than once in the clubhouse.
“I’m just sayin’,” he finally manages. “Hammerhead don’t look too kindly on dudes messin’ around with his woman.”
“You let me worry about it,” Hawk says, his voice a low growl. “I can handle myself.”
“Yeah, whatever man,” he snaps, then turns his eyes to me. “Those snacks ready yet?”
“I’ll bring them out as soon as they are.”
“Well, hurry it up. I’m hungry.”
Deadbolt gives me a last withering look, then turns and walks back out into the main room. I shake my head and reach down to pick up another piece of glass carelessly. The sharp sting makes me draw in a sharp breath. I pull my hand back and when I hold my finger up, I see the slice in my skin and watch for a moment as the blood wells in the cut then starts to spill.
Watching that crimson line of blood spill down my finger reminds me of the time, early on here, that I tried to kill myself. Or at least, thought about it. I dragged a piece of glass over my wrist, but it wasn’t sharp enough to do any real damage. It made a small, shallow cut just like this.
A bit of blood spilled out, but what really freaked me out was that it stung. Just like this one. That was enough for me. In the end, I wasn’t brave or strong enough to go through with it. Call me a coward, I sure feel like it sometimes, but I don’t like pain or blood. I also like living, so the thought of snuffing out my own torch freaked me out enough to never want to do it again.
I will live. I have to. I know I’ll get out of here someday and live a better life. I won’t let Hammerhead win, not ever. If he wants me dead, he’ll have to do it his damn self. And if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll take him with me.
I’m going to live.
All those thoughts flash in the blink of an eye as I stare at the blood dripping from my finger. The next thing I know, Hawk is helping me to my feet. He walks me over to the sink and turns the tap on.
