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She shook her head. “I didn’t see. I don’t know for sure.”
Caleb glowered at her. She shrank back into Hawk’s larger frame. “You should have talked to me, Tildy,” Caleb admonished.
“I- I didn’t want anyone to know.”
Hawk knew by ‘anyone’ she meant her folks. “I told you to call me if you needed me,” he reminded her.
“I didn’t want you to get hurt!”
“Tildy, I can look out for myself. For both of us. But you’ve got to trust me. Have you noticed anyone following you? Driving past your house?”
Tildy shook her head. “No. Nothing like that. And I’ve been checking. I don’t know how he found me.”
“Well, there’s a lot of trucks in Rapid City,” Caleb pointed out. “If you don’t know exactly what you’re looking for, it’d be easy to miss.” He continued scanning the parking lot as well as the on-street parking. “He’s not here now.” He grasped the torn underwear in his hand. “This is a message, Tildy.”
Hawk glowered as Tildy pressed her lips together instead of responding.
“You lied to Rawlins,” Caleb continued. “Right in front of me. What’s going on here? What are you not saying?”
Hawk was beginning to get frustrated as he watched her shake her head.
“He said something, didn’t he?” Hawk pressed. “Something that made you want to stay away from me.”
She frowned up at him. “He said he’d hurt you. Both of us.”
“What exactly did he say, Tildy?” Caleb asked.
She shifted uncomfortably. “He- he said if I…”
“What?” Caleb prompted.
She grimaced. “He said if I fucked that Indian again, he’d scalp us both.”
“So, it was that redneck,” Hawk concluded.
Tildy ran her tongue over her damaged lip. “I think so. But the thunder was loud and he was whispering. I didn’t recognize his voice. He’s watching me,” she said. “He must be. He found me today.”
“And you don’t know anyone who would do this?” Caleb asked.
She shook her head.
“Tate?”
Her eyes widened. “No! He doesn’t know about Hawk. And he doesn’t drive a truck. He wouldn’t care, anyway.”
“Maria said the redneck paid cash at the bar,” Caleb declared. “She’d never seen him before.”
“He said he was with the rodeo,” she replied.
“Alright. I’ll check it out.”
“I’m going to follow you home,” Hawk told her.
Tildy looked up at him, frowning.
“Don’t argue with me, Tildy. I’m following you home.”
“I’m not arguing,” she replied.
“Then what?”
She bit her cut lip, making Hawk want to touch it again, wipe away the damage. “Do… do I have to go home? Right now?”
Hawk suppressed the urge to bite his own lip. He should say yes. He should put her in her car and follow her home, end of story. But with her looking up at him, so scared and needing him, he knew he’d only regret it later if he just saw her home. He pulled her close and ran his hands through her hair again. “No. We don’t have to,” he told her.
Chapter 27
Hawk pulled into his driveway and killed his Harley’s engine. Tildy gripped his shoulder and swung her leg off first. She took a few steps back to give him room to dismount. As he led her to the front door he said, “Well, it’s not the north side.”
Tildy laughed. “The north side isn’t the north side, either.”
“Oh, yeah?”
She nodded, as he held his front door open for her. “Half my mother’s pictures fall off the walls.”
Hawk grunted. “Cheap sheetrock.”
Tildy nodded. “And the kitchen floor tile is slightly off-center.”
He grinned, “Guess you don’t always get what you pay for.
Tildy grinned back. “Guess not.”
Hawk’s house was nice, Tildy observed as she stepped inside. The kitchen was directly ahead and was large enough for a table and four chairs. To the left, the large living room had a black leather couch and a TV nearly as large hanging on one wall with a shelf of DVD’s below it. Everything was neat and orderly, nothing out of place. The walls were at odds with the leather though. They were simply beige. Tildy frowned.
“I told you it wasn’t much.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “It’s your walls.”
Now he frowned. “I hung that sheetrock myself.”
She laughed. “But they’re beige.”
Hawk looked from Tildy to the walls and back again. “Goes with everything,” he grunted.
Tildy arched a brow at him. “Not with you.”
“Is that right?”
Tildy nodded. “I don’t know what you are, Hawk Red Cloud, but you’re not beige.”
Hawk crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What color’s your room? Pink?”
Tildy rolled her eyes. “I’m not allowed to change it,” she informed him.
Hawk considered this. “What color would-?”
“Yellow,” she answered immediately.
“Yellow, huh?”
She nodded. “My house will be yellow. Bright yellow, like the sun. I don’t think you can be unhappy in a house with yellow walls. It’s impossible.”
“My mom’s house had yellow walls,” he told her. “At least in the kitchen.”
“Were you happy?”
Hawk hesitated.
“I’m sorry,” Tildy said quickly. “That’s none of my business.”
