Page 82 of Hawk (Burnout 3)


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Hawk leaned his head back on the seat and closed his eyes, willing his head to stop spinning. “Fucked Tildy in an alley,” he mumbled angrily.

Tex grunted. “That’s because you’re both cowards.”

“What?” Hawk demanded, opening his eyes and glaring at the other man.

“You heard me. You want each other, but you’re scared as hell to admit it. So you do that kind of crazy shit.”

Hawk shook his head. “She doesn’t want me. She’s marrying that asshole. Haven’t seen her take that ring off for good.”

“And then what, Hawk? Declare her undying love for you? And watch you walk away from her after she does? Then what happens to her? No fiancée, parents pissed as hell, and no white knight to save her.”

Hawk pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to be anyone’s savior; he couldn’t be. He failed his mother, failed Garrett. Who was he to save anyone at all?

Tex took Hawk’s keys and opened the front door for him. He shuffled inside, bracing one hand on the wall to keep himself upright. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten this drunk. He squeezed his eyes shut and wished he could just get straight, sober up instantly. He made his way to the bedroom and managed to get his boots off after a few tries. His head swiveled to the sound of the Cowboy speaking in hushed tones. Hawk grunted. He was probably calling everyone to let them know what an asshole he was. He stripped down, throwing his clothes as far across the room as he could get them because they smelled like that skank from the alley, and Hawk didn’t want to be reminded of it.

His knuckles were bruised but not bleeding anymore, and he slipped between the sheets. It wasn’t long after he closed his eyes that he found sleep. With it, he was where he always was these days with rough terrain biting into the soles of his bare feet. The moon shone down, but all he could see around him was blackness. He never understood why it was always night in the dreams. He never found her, not once since she’d been rescued, not in the dream place. This time though, he felt hands, her hands, small and soft on his back. His heart leapt, and he turned to face her.

Her face was pale in the moonlight, her long hair cascaded around her shoulders. He sighed in relief. “I’m right here,” she told him.

He cupped her face with his hand. “I can’t hold on to you.”

“Yes, you can,” she replied and took hold of his wrist. She moved his hand down to her waist. He pulled her closer, caging her in his arms. Her sandalwood scent filled his nostrils.

She grasped his upper arm and ran her fingers over the nail marks in his skin. He closed his eyes. “She wasn’t you,” he said miserably. When he opened his eyes again, he saw fresh tears welling up in her eyes. A sharp pain struck him in the chest. He was a bastard for hurting her. He would always hurt her. He couldn’t help himself.

“He’s not you either,” she whispered.

Hawk pulled her close and held her fiercely. “I never find you,” he told her. “I’m not letting go. I’m not losing you again.”

“I’m here,” she repeated, sliding against him. It was then that he realized she was naked too.

He groaned as his mouth found hers. His head was spinning, and he felt a sharp sting of fear that if he let go she’d fade away into the canyons where he couldn’t find her. He rolled and pinned her down so she couldn’t disappear.

He slipped inside her. It felt like it had in the alley, that warm, wet memory of bare female flesh surrounding him, gripping him tightly. A good dream then, not a nightmare. He had her this time, was having her.

“Angel,” he breathed, pushing deep inside her. “You feel like Heaven.”

Chapter 52

In the morning, Hawk opened his eyes and took a moment to focus on the hazy light filtering through the blinds. The spinning had stopped, but the nausea had set in. He closed his eyes again and groaned. His head throbbed painfully. He turned and pushed his face into the coolness of the pillow. It smelled like sandalwood.

He sighed and opened his eyes. He glanced around the room, located his clothes strewn all over the floor. He threw back the twisted sheets, stumbled into the bathroom, and splashed cold water on his face. As he turned off the faucet, he heard someone in the kitchen. His heart leapt, and he tugged on a pair of shorts before he headed through the bedroom door. His mood darkened as he found Tex standing at his toaster.

“Take those,” the Cowboy told him, not bothering to turn around. He simply jerked his head in the direction of the counter. Hawk discovered Tylenol and a glass of water. He couldn’t muster any gratitude as he washed the pills down.

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