Hawk

by Tiya Rayne

  “Did I get him? Did I shoot him? Can I open my eyes now?” I hear movement, but I have yet to open my eyes.

  “Did you seriously just shoot a gun at me with your eyes closed?” I open my eyes to see Walker sitting up off the ground, the blue-eyed man is bleeding from a shoulder wound, but he’s still very much alive.

  “I didn’t shoot at you, I shot at him.”

  He lifts his brow in a very judging way.

  “Hey, don’t look at me like that. My skills include knowing a Picasso from a Pollock, water painting, and teaching moody ass teenagers how to Papier-Mache. I am not Nancy Fucking Drew. And you’re welcome.”

  He laughs while springing to his feet. He walks over and picks up the gun I dropped, he towers over me before placing a kiss on my pouting lips. “You did good, baby. Next time keep your eyes open.”

  He smacks my ass before turning away from me to walk back over to the man holding his shoulder on the ground. Walker leans down and snatches the watch off of his wrist before turning off the low humming sound. He then tosses the watch to the ground.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks.

  He stares back at Walker with those icy blue eyes. A smug smile appears over his face as he signs at Walker.

  I step forward, which grabs his attention. He pauses in his signing. His eyes soften.

  “I have missed you, Harley,” he signs.

  “I’m not Harley, she was my sister,” I reply.

  He smiles. “But you can read sign language like her. You are also beautiful like her.”

  “Thank you. She was beautiful, inside and out.”

  “Are you serious, Hound?” Walker asks before Hound can complete his next response.

  He turns to Walker and frowns. He then says to me. “His time away has made him soft.”

  I start to snicker.

  “What’s so funny?” Walker says in annoyance.

  I realize that Walker can’t understand Hound and I immediately start to interpret. “He said your time away made you soft.”

  “Red knew a ton of languages. Where’d you learn ASL?” Walker asks.

  I shrug. “I had a hearing-impaired student my first year of teaching and I wanted to better understand her.”

  Walker smiles before turning back to Hound. “I’m not the only one that got soft. Your loose chokehold couldn’t kill a puppy.”

  Apparently, Hound can read lips incredibly well, because he laughs, before he signs. “I didn’t want to make you look bad in front of Harley’s sister,” I translate. I’ve already assumed Albany was Harley to him.

  This time Walker laughs before sobering. “Did you happen to see who shot through that window?”

  Hound shakes his head then signs. “I didn’t get a good look, but he was on the phone right before you turned the light on.”

  The moment I finish relaying that to Walker I ask, “Do you think that’s who Russell was on the phone with? Could he have been talking to his killer?”

  “That’s possible. Maybe they knew we were watching the place.”

  Hound starts to sign again. “He says they knew. He’s been watching us for the last four days too.”

  This gets Walker’s attention. He turns back to Hound. “Why are you following me?”

  Hound signs. “To buy you time.”

  Walker looks more confused than I am. “Time for what?”

  “By blood or sword,” he signs.

  Walker arches his brow and tilts his head. “They let me go, Hound. I no longer work for the Church.”

  Hound shakes his head. “By blood or sword.” He signs again. “Someone wants blood. They’re searching for something and tying up loose ends.”

  I wave my hand and wait for Hound to turn to me. “Who?” I sign once he turns to me.

  Hound watches me. That curious look from earlier seeming to take in everything from my in need of a wash ponytail to my sneakers. He smiles at me, turns to Walker and signs. “Is she worth it?” I repeat for Walker.

  “Yes,” his reply is immediate.

  I feel the sincerity in his words all the way down to my soul. I’m worth everything to him. I finally understood that.

  Hound signs the word good, sits back on his heels and bows. Walker shakes his head and turns away from the sight before him. I stand there confused as hell about what’s going on.

  One moment they were fighting to kill. The next they’re laughing and joking, and now they’re all serious again. It’s like whiplash keeping up with these two.

  “We should ask him—” I never finish the sentence. He turns around and aims the gun at Hound’s head and fires off a shot that has the man falling over.

  I clutch my chest, my heart races so fast I feel dizzy. He killed him. Yes, the man tried to choke Walker, but I thought they were friends.

  “Go get the duffle bag and come back,” Walker demands, his voice sounds detached.

  I stand there for a minute staring at the body. It isn’t the first one I’ve seen. Hell, it isn’t even the first one I’ve seen today, but for some reason, this one feels off.

  “Why did you kill him?”

  “Not now, Brooklyn.”

  “No, answer me. He was actually talking. You didn’t have to—”

  “Go get the fucking bag.”

  Even the few times he has lost his cool he has never yelled at me like that before. Instead of throat checking his ass like I want to, I turn around and head toward the house. I hear his footfalls behind me right before he grabs my arm and turns me to face him.

  “Brooklyn.” I yank away from him.

  “Fuck off, Walker.” I turn away from him and storm back into the house.

  Chapter 21

  You With Me

  Hawk

  Her silence is killing me. Brooklyn is never quiet. She loves to talk. If she’s silent, I know something is wrong.

  I should never have yelled at her. I lost my cool, something I know to never do. However, this was different. She didn’t understand the significance of what happened. I know Lucien did, and I know he has probably already told Priest and Seth.

  Someone from the Church declared war on me. That means I’ll never be safe. There’s nowhere I can go where I won’t be hunted down. I don’t care too much about myself, but that means now she’s also a target. And that puts fear in me.

  We were wiped clean of all of our fears those first two years at the Church. They taught us to fear nothing, not even death. The things they put us through to accomplish that shouldn’t be done to anyone, let alone a child. And still, nothing compares to what the thought of losing her does to me.

  I should never have yelled at her. I know she doesn’t like that. I didn’t need Red to tell me that. Being around Brooklyn and watching her the last year and a half has proven that.

  Music from a distance catches me off guard. It’s the high pitch of calypso music. I stop walking and she pulls up short beside me.

  I turn to face her. “I grew up with Hound.” I take the long way to apologize, but I have a feeling this is the only way when it comes to her. “He came into the Church the same time I did.”

  “Under Priest?”

  I shake my head. “No. He came in under another Priest, but he and I were friends. We had a special bond.”

  I know she’s going to ask what that bond was, but I’m not ready to tell her that yet. I place a finger to her lips gently to silence the question I know she will ask.

  “Whoever sent him knew that I wouldn’t want to kill him, but they also knew that he wouldn’t stop until his job was done. It’s how the Deacons are programmed. We follow orders no matter how difficult the task. In this scenario, it was either me or him, he chose me.”

  She sniffles and wipes her face.

  “I’m sorry about your friend.” Her soft voice causes me to grab her hand and pull her into my chest. She wraps her arms around my back.

  “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re damn right.
And if you ever try it again, I will knee you in the balls.” I laugh. I don’t doubt she would try. “But I’ll give you a pass this time.”

  I release her hand from mine and cup her face. I swipe my thumbs over the wet tracks her tears make. She lifts her head up and I plant a quick kiss on her lips. I don’t think I will ever grow tired of kissing her.

  “Dance with me?”

  “What?”

  I don’t think she can quite hear the music yet, so this probably does sound like a crazy request.

  “I want to take you out for a date.”

  She exhales and the burst of air hits my face. “I think we are beyond casual dating. Besides, shouldn’t we be following more leads?”

  “I spent nineteen years of my life limited on my social life. I’ve never been on a date. In fact, the closest I’ve come to one is the day we ate breakfast in the diner. I want to take you out. I want to be normal even if it’s only for tonight.”

  After finding out that someone from the Church has placed me on a menu, I doubt we will get another chance at this. Sure, Hound gave up his life so that he wouldn’t have to kill me, but the next Deacon might not. I don’t want her to stress about this. I’m going to find a way for us to be happy, I’ll die trying.

  She softens, her sigh of submission brings a smile to my face. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”

  ***

  “Oh wow, this is beautiful.” Her soft gasp makes me proud. Even though I chose this place on a whim, I wanted it to be special. I want to give Brooklyn everything. “You would think with us sitting outside, it would be cold, but those heaters are freaking amazing.”

  We are at an outdoor patio style restaurant. The live calypso music isn’t too overbearing.

  “Welcome to Bahama Breezes.” An airy voice causes me to turn toward the overwhelming floral scent of our waitress. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Iced tea for me, please.”

  “Same for me,” I reply.

  “Okay, and are you ready to order?”

  I don’t reply. I wait for Brooklyn to order first. “Can I have the black beans and rice stuffed beef empanadas.”

  “And I’ll have the same.”

  “All right, I’ll bring your drinks.” The waitress walks off leaving only a light trail of her floral scent.

  “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Order what I order? You did the same thing at the diner, what if you don’t like it?”

  I smile. Years of practice has taught me to control my emotions, even when someone says something that hits too close to home.

  “I’m not a picky eater. Besides, I like to try new things.” I wink, letting the innuendo lead her into another subject. Anywhere but where she was going.

  “Is that what this is, you trying something new?”

  “No, this is me knowing what I want.”

  “Tell me, what do you want?” I shoot her a look. I know what she’s hinting at, but I want her to ask me directly.

  “What do you mean?”

  She exhales. She knows I’m messing with her. “What do you want from us? Once all this is over, what then?”

  I clench my hand in a tight fist underneath the table. This will never be over. Not until I figure out who in the Church put that hit out on me.

  “I want to go away. Somewhere off-grid. A place I can raise a few animals, and maybe a few kids.”

  There is a long pause after my statement. Her breathing has evened out. She’s doing that thing again.

  Priest first pointed it out to me. She’s painting that picture in her head. I wonder if she realizes what she’s doing.

  “She asked me that question once.” Her soft voice pulls my attention. Whatever she painted must have been a very emotional picture, her voice breaks as she speaks. “We were in one of our not so good foster homes. I remember sitting on the bed, nursing a busted lip and a sore bottom and she asked me where I would go if I got away.”

  “What did you say?”

  I already know what her response will be before she gives it. Albany never did anything without a plan in mind. Just like she fed me the plan of leaving the Church, she also fed me the idea of living off the grid.

  She would suggest things when we would sit down for dinner and talk. She would mention farm life, the benefits of growing and caring for your own food, and sometimes she would tell me she read about the lack of technological interferences in rural America. She subliminally primed me for her sister in the same way she did her sister for me.

  “I told her I would move to the country. I wanted dogs and horses and I wanted to do nothing but care for my animals and do my art. I even told her I would sell my artwork at state fairs like we saw on TV.” She sighs. “I forgot about that. I forgot a lot of things, but she didn’t.” Her voice catches. “I miss her so much. She was all I had for so long.”

  I reach across the table and hold my hand out palm up. She places hers in mine.

  “You have me now. You’re not alone, and you never will be. I can’t fill the void she left, but I will love you until the day you leave this world and join her in the next.” Her pulse quickens and her hand tightens in mine.

  “Do you promise?” The question is barely louder than a whisper. It almost gets drowned in the low hum of conversation and the soft high pitch of the music, but I catch it. And I hear it for what it is. Her fears. She isn’t afraid of much, but being left alone is that one fear that she carries.

  “I vow that to you, Brooklyn Creedmoor Walker.” Damn, I love the way that sounds.

  She laughs before leaning from her seat, causing the table to shake as she draws closer to me. I lean into her, meeting her halfway. Her soft hands cup my face before she brings her lips to mine in a sweet kiss.

  I pull away right before the waitress arrives back to the table with our food. We eat our meal in comfortable silence. When her plate scrapes across the heavy iron table, I know she’s done eating.

  “That was delicious, but I am full.” She giggles.

  “How about we work some of this food off?” I ask, standing to my feet and holding out a hand.

  “You want to dance?”

  “Of course.”

  There’s only a moment of hesitation before she places her hand in mine. I pull her up from her seat.

  “Lead the way.”

  She does, escorting me closer to the band. She turns and wraps her hands around my neck, and I pull her body into mine. We slowly sway to the music. Not exactly on beat, but I didn’t care.

  “What do you see when you look at me?” Her question catches me off guard.

  “What do you mean?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. It feels like when you look at me, you aren’t looking at me. It’s like you can see my soul or something. That’s weird, right?”

  I chuckle, not at the lunacy of what she’s saying but the accuracy. “You’re right. When I look at you, I don’t see your features. Your wide set eyes and button nose are lost to me. Those plush lips with the perfect Cupid’s bow don’t register in my mind. I don’t see what everyone else sees.”

  “What do you see?”

  “My future.”

  Her breathing is so uneven, one would think she is close to hyperventilating. I know what she needs before the words are out of her mouth. I need it too.

  I needed it the moment Hound told me my days were limited. When her body softens against mine and her pebbled nipples brush against my chest, I lean into her ear and demand. “Bathroom.”

  The suggestion takes her by surprise, but she doesn’t refuse it. Instead, she slips her hands from around my neck and places one in mine. She then turns to lead me back to the table to grab the black bag then to the bathroom.

  We walk further from the band, the music fading and the smells of the kitchen increasing. Taking a left, we head down a narrow hallway. She goes to push the women’s restroom door open, but the sound of the dryer going has me stop her.

  I
tug her back, pulling her flush against my chest, then back into the empty men’s restroom. I kick the door closed with the heel of my boot once we’re inside. With her lips sealed to mine, I fumble with the lock. The moment the click sounds, she drops the bag and I place all my attention on her.

  My need for Brooklyn is dire. I have never craved anything as much as I crave the comfort of her body. Even when I was a child and prayed every night that God would heal me of my sickness, I never wanted it as badly as I want her.

  I lift her by the thighs. She wraps her legs around my waist as I find the sinks located behind her. I plop her down on the wet surface.

  Pulling away from her feverish kiss long enough to push her shirt up, I yank down the front of her lacy bra. Placing a hand under her breast, I push the soft flesh up toward my mouth. I latch onto her flesh and roll my tongue around the tight nipple.

  She hisses and digs her fingers in my hair. I take my turn lavishing her breasts all while moving my hand down to the elastic waistband of her tights.

  She pushes at my chest. I lean back giving her space. It takes a minute for her to catch her breath. “Walker, I don’t think this is sanitary.”

  She has a point. “We won’t touch anything.”

  She snorts. “How do you plan to accomplish that?”

  I lift the side of my lips into a smirk. She’s offered me a challenge that I’m going to take great joy in fulfilling. I help her off the sink and stand her to her feet.

  With one hand around her neck, I pull her into me, devouring her lips. With my free hand, I undo my belt and pants. Slipping my throbbing dick out of my pants, I stroke it twice.

  “Turn around,” I command of her.

  “Walker—” I cut off her protest by tightening my hold on her neck. “I want my pussy. You will turn around and give it to me.”

  She shivers. When I release her, she turns around. I yank down her tights along with her panties, pushing them to her ankles.

  I lean her forward. The smell of her essence flaring my nostrils. Never have I had pussy wetter than my Brooklyn’s.

  She runs like a river for me. I use my fingers to smear her cream from her tightness down to her little nub. She purrs.