Retribution (The Protectors, Book 3)

by Sloane Kennedy

“Hawke and I went shopping while you were sleeping, Daddy,” Matty answered, though I kept my eyes on Hawke. He, in turn, held my gaze, unconcerned at the growing anger I knew had to be wafting off of me.

  “You took him without my permission?” I said, knowing the question was stupid. This man didn’t need my permission to do anything. Whatever he wanted, he took.

  Hawke didn’t move, didn’t smile…didn’t do anything but stare at me with his cold, cobalt eyes. “Figured you wouldn’t want him eating pizza for breakfast,” he finally responded. “And we have a long day of driving ahead of us.”

  I ignored the challenge in Hawke’s tone and went to kneel down next to Matty. He looked tired, but seeing the smile on his face had me feeling marginally better. “Hawke said we’re going on a trip,” Matty repeated, almost hopefully. I bit back the tears that threatened to fall as I thought about the many days of pain my son would have to endure in the coming months.

  “Yeah, we are. Would you like to go meet Hawke’s friends?”

  Matty nodded. “He said they have a really cool dog. His name is Bullet,” Matty said with a laugh.

  I smiled and then reached out to press my hand against Matty’s forehead. “How are you feeling this morning?” I asked.

  “My belly hurts a little,” he said. “There’s another one, Daddy,” he said softly as he pulled his shirt up to show me yet another bruise on his abdomen.

  I nodded slowly while I tried to find the strength to speak. “I know, buddy. But the doctors know how to fix it now so you won’t get any more.”

  “Is it gonna hurt like yesterday?” Matty asked, his voice dropping.

  “No,” I lied as I pulled him into my arms. “But we’ll talk about that later, okay? Why don’t you go watch some cartoons for a bit and then we’ll get ready to go so we can meet Bullet, okay?”

  I felt Matty nod against my neck before pulling free of me. To my surprise, he ran over to Hawke and threw his arms around the man before Hawke could even react. Hawke stiffened and tried to hold himself back from the contact, but then I saw the slightest relaxing of his body as he wrapped an arm around Matty’s small frame.

  “Here, you can play with him for a while,” Matty said as he thrust Spiderman into Hawke’s hands before leaving the kitchen. I heard the TV come on a few seconds later. I reached for the dishes on the table and began cleaning up.

  “The bruises?” I heard Hawke ask.

  My entire body ached from exhaustion and I found myself leaning against the kitchen counter, my stinging eyes focused on the dingy tile backsplash over the sink. “A symptom,” I answered. “They were the reason I took Matty to the pediatrician a few days ago. He sent us to a specialist.”

  “And you got the diagnosis.”

  I let out a strangled laugh. “I didn’t believe him. I knew it was a mistake so when he said I needed to take Matty to the hospital for tests, all I could think was that they were going to look like fools when they told me they’d screwed up in telling me my kid had cancer.”

  I began washing the few dishes in the sink. “Other kids get cancer. Not mine.” I sucked in a breath. “Then the oncologist starts talking about chemotherapy and stem cell transplants and I just lost it.”

  I heard the chair scrape back and then Hawke was leaning against the counter next to me. I kept my eyes on the dishes in the sink, but at some point I’d stopped cleaning them. “My little boy has cancer,” I whispered in disbelief. At some point tears had started to slip from my eyes, but I was powerless to move as the enormity of what was happening hit me all over again.

  “You said they got it early,” Hawke said, his voice soothing. How could one man be so terrifying one moment and so gentle the next?

  “I…I saw the bruises a few weeks ago. I thought he got them from playing too rough,” I whispered. I looked at Hawke who was standing much closer to me than I’d realized. “I should have taken him to the doctor that day…what if those three weeks-”

  “He’s going to be okay, Tate,” Hawke said firmly and I closed my eyes when I felt his big hand settle on my back between my shoulder blades. His palm rested there for a moment before drifting up to settle over my right shoulder and he squeezed gently.

  The move unlocked something inside of me and I let out a hoarse sob. “I can’t lose him!”

  I didn’t resist as Hawke pulled me to him and when I felt his broad chest pressed against my cheek, I began crying in earnest as I finally got what I’d needed for so long. I wrapped my arms around him and held on for dear life as I let out all the fear and uncertainty that had hounded me in the two years that I’d taken Matty and escaped the life that had been drowning me.

  “Daddy?”

  I pulled back from Hawke’s hold to see Matty standing next to us, his big eyes pooling with tears. Before I could even react, Hawke was picking him up. “He’s okay, Matty. He just needs a really big hug, okay?”

  Matty nodded as Hawke handed him over to me. Matty wrapped himself around me like a monkey and I let go of another round of sobs when he whispered, “It’s okay, Daddy. I’ll take care of you,” into my ear.

  I wasn’t sure how long I held him for, but at some point we ended up sitting in one of the kitchen chairs. Matty sat back so he could study my face. “Love you lots,” he whispered and I let out a choked laugh.

  “Forever and ever,” I responded. It was a saying we’d come up with, though I couldn’t remember where we’d gotten it from. It had just…been. Like me and Matty. One day we were strangers, the next we were family. It had just happened.

  “I’m okay now,” I said to him as I used a dish towel that had magically appeared on the table in front of me to wipe away my tears. “Why don’t you go finish watching your cartoon?”

  Matty nodded. He looked over his shoulder at Hawke who had returned to the chair across from us. I spared the man a glance and was surprised to see what I was sure I hadn’t last night…compassion.

  “I think Daddy needs Spidey,” Matty said in all seriousness to Hawke. “He’s sad.”

  Hawke nodded and pushed the doll across the table so Matty could reach it. He grabbed it and handed it to me. I was too emotional to speak so I gave him a nod and then pulled him back against me for another hug. His hold on me was unfailing and unhurried and I wondered again how I’d been lucky enough to have this kid in my life.

  “Go on,” I finally said. Matty hopped off my lap and left the kitchen. I felt completely drained as I put the doll on the table and tried to wipe away the last remnants of my breakdown from my face. I forced myself to look up at Hawke. “You said your friend is a doctor?”

  Hawke nodded. “He’s already in the process of finding the best oncologists at Seattle Children’s Hospital. Matty will get the best care possible. They’ll want to see the results of the tests Matty had done yesterday.”

  I managed a nod. “I’ll call them from the car,” I said. As much as I hated being forced into this situation, I couldn’t help but feel relieved that Matty would be getting what he needed despite my lack of funds. Dr. Spengler had explained that Matty would have to be in the hospital for weeks at a time since the chemo would destroy his immune system. He’d get about a week or so between each phase of chemo where he could leave the hospital, but it would be at least six months before the first round of treatment was completed. The cost for his care would be staggering and since I had no documents proving Matty’s identity, I wouldn’t have been able to rely on any government programs for assistance. And after the prior day’s fiasco with the woman insisting I pay for part of the services up front, I couldn’t even be sure Matty would get any kind of care since I couldn’t afford to pay for it.

  “I’ll find a way to pay you back,” I managed to say as I leaned back in the chair.

  “You don’t-”

  I put up my hand to stop Hawke’s words. “I’ll keep my end of the deal, but I’m not a charity case. The money is a loan,” I said firmly.

  Hawke didn’t respond in any kind of way and I wasn
’t sure what that meant. He was once again distant and unreadable. I forced myself to hold his gaze as I said, “If we find Buck and Denny, I need you to make sure-”

  “I won’t let them near you, Tate.”

  A shiver ran down my spine at his declaration. How many times had I wished there’d been someone to say those exact words to me? How many times had I curled in on myself as blow after blow had fallen across my battered body and dreamed that someone like the man across from me would step in and stop it?

  Too many times.

  Too many to believe his words.

  But I had to hope that whatever connection he’d managed to forge with my son would carry over to what I was about to ask of him.

  “I need you to make sure that Buck and Denny never get to Matty,” I said firmly. “No matter what happens to me, Matty comes first. I don’t care what you have to do…Buck never lays a hand on him.” I swallowed hard as even the thought of Matty being exposed to Buck’s brutal “lessons” made me want to throw up. “Promise me,” I whispered unashamedly.

  Hawke studied me for so long that I had to fight the urge to squirm in my seat. I hated that my mind feared the power he had over me, but I hated even more that my body craved it and him in a way I’d never known before.

  “No one touches Matty,” Hawke finally said. “Or you,” he added. And then he leaned forward and pinned me with his hard eyes. “Ever.”

  I forced back the dual need to believe him and to tell him not to make me a promise he couldn’t keep and merely nodded my head. “I’ll go pack,” I said.

  “Eat something first,” Hawke murmured. He got up before I could respond and then he was setting the Cheerios and carton of milk in front of me. I wasn’t actually hungry, but there was something about the way he watched me that had me reaching for the bowl and spoon he slid in front of me. I had no idea what he was thinking, but for the first time since he’d forced his way into my life, I actually didn’t feel afraid of him.

  And I had no idea why.

  Chapter Five

  Hawke

  It took us more than an hour to finally get on the road since I’d vastly underestimated the amount of stuff one kid needed. While Tate just had a small bag, he’d packed as many of Matty’s books, toys and stuffed animals into my car as he could, leaving only just enough space for Matty in the back seat.

  Which meant Tate was sitting in the passenger seat next to me. And the fact that his close proximity bothered me was a problem. A big one.

  I hadn’t meant to touch Tate when he’d broken down about Matty’s condition. But as his voice had cracked and then finally broken, I’d found myself desperate to take away his pain and I’d pulled him against me. His arms had wrapped around me like a drowning man, but instead of trying to extricate myself from his hold like I should have, I’d held him tighter. His tears had seeped through my shirt and my own eyes hadn’t been immune. And then Matty had appeared and everything had gotten more fucked up.

  Because the harder I tried to maintain my distance from Tate and Matty Travers, the more they sucked me into their lives. And the guilt of what I was doing was eating me alive. My threat to turn Tate’s DNA over to the cops had been an empty one, but I’d made sure he wouldn’t know that. I’d gotten what I wanted, but I couldn’t get the image of Tate’s look of betrayal out of my head. Which was ridiculous because I owed him nothing. I didn’t give a shit what he thought of me.

  I didn’t bother to wait for Revay’s voice to whisper in my ear that I was a liar because I already knew I was. Just like I was lying to myself about what Tate’s body pressed up against mine had done to me.

  I’d wanted him. I still wanted him.

  A man.

  A fucking man.

  My entire life had only ever been about women…well, one woman. Sure, I’d noticed other women in the years I’d been with Revay, but not one of them had stirred even an ounce of the same desire in me that my wife had. Even in the years since I’d lost her, there’d been no one that had made me burn with need.

  Until now.

  I’d been around plenty of gay men and women in my life. Hell, the man I considered the closest thing I had to a best friend was openly gay and I’d spent the last couple of weeks protecting the man he’d been in love with for several years. It wasn’t something that was foreign to me, but feeling my body react to Tate’s hard body definitely was. I hadn’t even once looked at a man in the same way I did a woman. There was no way what I was feeling was real…it was some kind of fucked up fluke. It had to be. Because not only could I not be attracted to a man after a lifetime of wanting only women, I could not be attracted to the son of one of my wife’s murderers.

  And if that wasn’t bad enough, I’d had to contend with Matty when he’d shuffled into the kitchen this morning in his superhero pajamas. I would have expected him to be afraid of me after what I’d done to him and his father that first night, but instead, he’d studied me for a moment, his Spiderman doll hanging loosely in his hand, and then he’d climbed up into the chair across from and just stared at me. He’d then announced that he didn’t think I was Captain America because my name was Hawke. That meant I must be more like Hawkeye and he’d begun asking me why I carried a gun instead of a bow and arrows.

  I’d managed to use his hunger as a distraction and had taken him down to a small grocery store a block from Tate’s apartment. And while he’d gotten off the topic of me being a superhero in hiding, he hadn’t stopped rambling from the moment we’d left the apartment. Worse, he’d grabbed my hand as we’d walked and simply looked up at me and said, “Daddy says.” I’d taken that to mean Tate had a rule that Matty needed to hold a grown-up’s hand, but I hadn’t had a chance to ask him that because he’d started in on explaining who he thought would win if Spiderman and Captain America got into a fight.

  It wasn’t until we’d gotten back to the apartment and I’d slid a bowl of Cheerios in front of Matty, that I’d managed to get a few snippets of information out of him. Like that his father did dishes in a restaurant, slept on the couch and they moved around a lot. The latter hadn’t been described that way of course – Matty had made it sound like a game where winning was about being quiet and quick. It was a telling statement of what Tate’s life was like.

  And that should have made me feel better about what I was doing.

  It didn’t.

  Because even if Tate and Matty got what they needed out of the deal, I’d still taken Tate’s choice away. I’d terrorized him, threatened him and used his kid to get what I wanted. And then I’d reveled in the way his body had lined up perfectly with mine as I’d held him. I hadn’t cared that all the places where I’d been touching him were hard instead of soft. Or that he hadn’t smelled like flowers and that his muscles had rippled beneath my fingers. Or that his hold on me had been desperately tight instead of soft and comforting.

  I could easily end this when I got them to Seattle. I could keep my end of the deal because the money for Matty’s care meant nothing to me. I could entrust them to Ronan’s care and be done with this whole thing.

  But I wouldn’t be done because I’d have to live with knowing I’d failed Revay in every way. And I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t.

  I felt the hairs on the back of my neck standing up and I glanced over to see Tate watching me. I cursed the fact that my dick twitched at the momentary flash of need I saw in his eyes. “What?” I bit out a little too harshly.

  “Nothing,” Tate murmured as he shook his head and turned his attention back out the window. We’d been on the road for a couple hours, stopping only once to buy a booster seat for Matty along with some snacks that I never would have even thought to buy for a little kid.

  “What?” I repeated, forcing the irritation from my voice because, strangely enough, I wanted him to talk to me.

  Tate turned back to me and then glanced at the back seat. I looked up in the rearview mirror and saw that Matty was asleep, his head resting on his shoulder and Spiderman clutc
hed to his chest.

  “Who was it?”

  “Who?” I asked.

  Tate hesitated and then finally said, “Who did Buck and Denny kill?”

  I felt pain shoot through my chest. Since I needed a moment to recover, I managed to get out, “You don’t seem surprised they did it.”

  Tate dropped his eyes to his hands. “I stopped being surprised by the things they did a long time ago.” Tate began twisting his fingers around each other. “Who was it?”

  I blew out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “My wife.”

  I was surprised when Tate didn’t look at me. He barely even acknowledged that he’d heard me. The only change in his tense frame was that his fingers had stopped moving. “When?” he finally asked.

  “September, 2005.”

  “What was her name?”

  More pain bloomed in my chest. I rarely said her name out loud and I always felt a searing pain on the few occasions that I did. “Revay,” I managed to whisper.

  Tate fell silent. Most people always apologized to me when they learned I’d lost my wife, but Tate said nothing. It was strangely comforting. Like he knew that telling me he was sorry would solve nothing, would do nothing to even make a dent in the agony that consumed me.

  “Did they ever say anything about her? About that time?” I forced myself to ask.

  Tate didn’t need to ask who I was talking about. “I don’t remember. I learned a long time ago not to ask questions.”

  “How old were you then?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “What about your mom? Was she around?”

  Tate was quiet for a moment before saying, “No, she wasn’t.”

  “So your parents were divorced?”

  Tate shrugged. “No idea.”

  I figured the conversation was over when Tate turned his head to look out the window. But to my surprise, he started talking again.

  “I don’t remember her, but I used to dream about this woman when I was little. It was always the same dream. She had this really bright, long red hair and she was wearing some kind of uniform…a nurse maybe. It was just her and me and Denny sitting around this small table, holding hands, and she was saying grace. That’s it…that’s all I ever see.” Tate glanced down at his hands again. “That was how I picked Tate.”