Retribution (The Protectors, Book 3)

by Sloane Kennedy

  Tate made a move to get out of the truck, but I grabbed him by the wrist to stop him.

  “What does that mean?”

  Tate sighed and then shrugged. “It’s a small town, Hawke. Not a lot of options for a scrawny, scared kid with a homophobic father and brother.”

  “So you weren’t in love with him?” I asked, hating the jealousy that was surging through me. Fortunately, Tate didn’t seem to notice it.

  “Love?” Tate said with a harsh chuckle. “I barely even liked him.”

  “Then why?” I pressed.

  “Forget it,” Tate murmured and tried to pull free of my hold.

  “Why, Tate?”

  He finally turned to face me, his expression an intriguing mix of defiance and shame.

  “Because it was easy to pretend with him.”

  “Pretend?”

  “Yeah, unlike you, I pretended all the time. I pretended he was my boyfriend and that I didn’t feel cheap and used after he finished fucking me. I pretended I loved him and that we were going to build a life together. I pretended I didn’t have to hide who I was and that for five God damn minutes, I was actually safe!”

  Tate tried to tug free of my grip, but I pulled him closer and then sealed my mouth over his, not caring who might see us. I kissed him until he went soft beneath my lips and started kissing me back.

  “You don’t have to pretend anymore,” I reminded him.

  “Don’t I?” Tate murmured, but before I could even try to figure out what he meant, he whispered, “Sorry,” and tried to escape me again.

  “Was there anyone else?” I asked. I had no idea why it was so important for me to suddenly know if there’d ever been someone special in Tate’s life.

  “No,” Tate said as he dropped his gaze. “I went to a club once after Reggie moved away, but it wasn’t what I thought it would be.”

  “What did you think it was going to be?”

  “Do we have to talk about this?” Tate asked quietly.

  “No,” I finally said as I released him. The tension between us grew and I didn’t try to stop Tate when he got out of the truck. He waited for me as I walked around it before heading into the small building.

  Lulling had turned out to be a rural, almost desolate town with just a small town square. The population was just shy of a thousand people and my guess was that many of them either made their living running ranches on the surrounding farmland or made the hour long commute to San Antonio. The few businesses that remained were a throwback to another time and the bank was no exception. The décor as soon as we walked in screamed that the place hadn’t seen an upgrade in several decades and there was only a singular teller standing behind the counter and one cubicle with a starchy older man punching numbers into an older model computer.

  There was no doubt in my mind that the teller picking at something on the skin of his hand was Tate’s ex and I had to curb the urge to walk up to the counter and drag the man through the little space that allowed him to interact with his customers. I sensed Tate tensing up next to me, but he didn’t hesitate to make his way right up to Reggie.

  “How may I help you today?” Reggie mumbled just before he lifted his dull eyes. They instantly widened at the sight of Tate.

  “Chris,” he whispered and then looked around the small space as if half expecting to see someone else. His eyes only stayed on me for a brief moment and I knew right away who he was expecting to see.

  “Reggie,” Tate acknowledged.

  Reggie shifted back and forth uneasily on his feet. He was about the same height as Tate and I suspected his normal build would have been average to a little heavier set. But his gaunt frame, thin hair and clearly false teeth had me instantly realizing the man in front of us had betrayed Tate for one reason two years ago.

  “What…what are you doing here?” Reggie asked as he crossed his arms and tucked his jittering hands under his armpits.

  “We’re looking for Buck.”

  “Buck?” Reggie whispered, his eyes once again darting around as if expecting Buck to magically appear. “I…I haven’t seen him.”

  “Not even when you need your next fix?” I asked coldly.

  Reggie’s gaze shifted to me and then to the older man sitting in the cubicle. “I, um…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Reggie,” Tate said crisply. “Buck and Denny, where are they?”

  “I swear, Chris, I don’t know.”

  “That’s not his fucking name,” I snarled as I brushed past Tate and snagged Reggie by his shirt collar and yanked him forward.

  “Hawke,” I heard Tate say calmly from behind me and then his hand was smoothing over my back. I stifled the half dozen names I wanted to call the piece of shit in front of me and released him. I stepped back just enough so Tate could make eye contact with the fucker, but that was it.

  “Ch…” Reggie started to say to Tate and then bit off his words when his wide eyes darted to me. “I swear, I don’t know where they are,” he said and when I shifted my stance, he quickly continued. “No one’s seen them since their lab exploded a while back. Most people think it was their bodies the cops found.”

  “But not you,” Tate ventured.

  Reggie shook his head. “I knew a couple guys who used to help Buck cook his stuff…I haven’t seen them since it blew.”

  “Where would they have gone, Reggie?” Tate asked.

  Reggie began to get more agitated as he kept checking the entrance for signs of anyone. His voice dropped to a low whisper when he said, “There’s a rumor that Buck partnered with this dealer near the border. Laredo, I think.” Reggie dropped his hands to the counter and leaned forward. “Chris,” he began, too caught up in what he was saying to remember my warning about the name. “The guy’s bad news. He’s got a whole operation going on down there. Meth, heroin, coke.”

  “What’s his name?” I asked.

  Reggie looked at me and shook his head violently. I grabbed him again. “What the fuck is his name?”

  “Davos,” Reggie spit out. “Ricardo Davos.”

  Reggie tried to tug free of my hold, but I dragged him closer and said, “I’d like nothing more than to rip your nuts from your body and feed them to you, you little prick.”

  “Hawke,” Tate said softly and I glanced up to see him shaking his head slightly. I looked over my shoulder to see the guy in the cubicle was watching us now, but surprisingly, he wasn’t reaching for his phone or reacting in any kind of way.

  I turned my attention back to Reggie and said, “Did you transfer the money two years ago?”

  Reggie paled and then shot Tate a look before shaking head. “I…Buck told me not to. He wanted Chris to come back for it.”

  I shoved Reggie away from me and he stumbled, grabbing on to the counter to keep from falling. “Get it now!” I snapped.

  “Um…Chris needs to fill out a withdrawal slip,” Reggie began, but when I reached for him again, he stepped back and said, “Okay, okay” and began tapping on his keyboard. He kept shifting his eyes to Tate as he worked.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Reggie mumbled. “He said he’d kill me if I didn’t tell him if you tried to get the money.”

  “And how the fuck did he know Chris had an account here?” I snarled, hating the way the name sounded coming from my lips, but not willing to share Tate’s new name with Reggie.

  Reggie’s sallow skin flushed with color and I fought the urge to slam my fist into his face. He fumbled with the money he pulled from a drawer and started counting. It took several minutes for him to shove it in an envelope and slide it across the counter towards Tate.

  “I’m sorry,” Reggie whispered when Tate closed his hand over the envelope. But the second Reggie tried to touch Tate’s hand, I grabbed his bony fingers and crushed them between my own. Reggie cried out in pain, but I stopped just short of actually breaking any bones.

  “What are you sorry for, you little fuck? Selling him out for a lousy score two years ago or knowi
ng you’d do it again in a heartbeat if you could?” I snapped. “Let’s go,” I said to Tate as I slammed Reggie’s hand down on the counter and put my own on Tate’s arm to steer him towards the door.

  I was pleased when Tate didn’t glance over his shoulder at Reggie, but as soon as we got outside, Tate froze and I realized why a second later when I saw a police officer walking slowly towards us. I guessed the man to be in his late fifties. His brown sheriff’s uniform was tight across his heavyset frame and he was wearing a white cowboy hat. He was resting one hand on his holstered gun and the other hand was holding what looked like a check.

  “Christopher Buckley,” the Sheriff murmured as he came to a stop in front of us, his dark eyes looking Tate over quickly before settling on me. I didn’t miss the way his fingers reflexively closed around his gun and I was innately pleased to know he instinctively knew I was a potential threat. Even with my gun stashed under the front seat of my truck, I could still take this man down in seconds. And I would have enjoyed doing it considering what he’d done to Tate years ago.

  “What brings you back to town?” the sheriff asked, his eyes remaining on me.

  “That an official business question?” I asked before Tate could answer.

  The sheriff didn’t respond, but I could see the tension in his jaw as he chewed whatever he had in his mouth. Chewing tobacco as far as I could tell from the smell.

  “Chris, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” the guy asked smoothly as his eyes finally shifted to Tate who’d gone very quiet. We were standing close enough that I could feel a slight tremor in his body. I reached down to curl my fingers around his hand and gave him a gentle squeeze. He clamped down on my hand with a brutally tight hold and his palm was cold and clammy against mine.

  “You can call me Hawke,” I said coolly, not bothering to offer my hand. “Chris’s boyfriend.”

  The sheriff actually took a step back, the repulsion in his eyes clear as day. “And you are?” I asked.

  The man finally seemed to remember he’d been trying to intimidate us and he puffed out his chest. “Sheriff Graham Holden.”

  “Well, Sheriff Holden, to answer your question, Chris and I stopped by to get something he left behind when he got out of this piece of shit town of yours two years ago,” I drawled.

  The sheriff’s jaw hardened and his gaze went back to Tate. “Seems I remember him leaving with something that wasn’t his. His father was real sorry to see it and Chris go.”

  Tate tightened his hand on mine even more and I gently eased him forward past the sheriff. “Well, if you happen to see his father anytime soon, you tell him I’m going to stop by and see him real soon.”

  The sheriff’s eyes widened for a moment and then held mine for several long seconds before he turned to enter the bank. I could tell Tate was barely holding it together so I quickly pulled him past the sheriff’s patrol car and got him settled into my truck. The second I got behind the wheel, I reached for his hand and gently tugged him towards me until I could snag my other hand around the back of his neck.

  “Tate, look at me,” I said gently.

  Tate was struggling to control his breathing and he shook his head. But a second later, he drew in a deep breath and opened his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “For what?” I asked as I gently began massaging his skin with my fingers. The move seemed to help him relax somewhat.

  “I wasn’t prepared,” he said. “I…was for Reggie, but not him.”

  I knew he was talking about the sheriff. I leaned in and brushed my lips over his. “You did great,” I said.

  Tate shook his head. “I froze,” he said. “I saw him and I was that scared sixteen-year-old kid again.”

  “You were fucking amazing,” I said and then I dragged him to me and kissed him hard. Tate let out a rush of air as soon as I released his mouth, and then he was seeking me out for another kiss. I gave it to him and then gently pulled away from him. “Let’s get going.”

  Tate leaned back in his seat and searched out his seat belt. “Laredo’s only a few hours away. We can get there before it gets dark.”

  “No,” I said. “We’re heading back to the motel.”

  “It’s still early-” Tate began to say.

  “We’re done,” I said as I started up the truck. I looked at Tate and quietly repeated, “We’re done.” I put the truck in gear and forced myself not to look at Tate again when I said, “It’s time for you to go home.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tate

  Hawke’s declaration should have excited me. Even though it had only been a few days since I’d left Matty, I ached to see him again, to feel his little body in my arms. But it wasn’t what Hawke had said that was bothering me so much.

  It was what he hadn’t said.

  “You’re going after them, aren’t you?” I whispered as I pressed my hand to my stomach to stem the physical pain I was feeling.

  When Hawke didn’t answer me, I closed my eyes and tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. Everything inside of me had turned numb when Reggie had said Buck and Denny had teamed up with a drug lord and I’d feared this exact moment. Because Hawke would never stop hunting the men who’d stolen his entire life from him. But when it had been just Buck and Denny, he’d stood a chance of walking away.

  “Hawke-”

  The truck lurched to a stop in front of the motel and Hawke was out of the truck before I could finish my sentence. I followed him into the motel room and watched in silence as he gathered our few belongings. When he tried to walk past me and out of the room, I stepped into his path. “Please don’t do this,” I said quietly, trying like hell to keep my voice from breaking. I held Hawke’s gaze as he studied me for a long time. Hope sparked to life in my belly when he reached out to cup my face, his big, warm hand settling just behind my ear. I held my breath as I waited for him to kiss me, but instead of pressing his lips to mine, he dropped them to my forehead and lingered there for a moment before pulling back and saying, “We should get going.”

  And I knew in that moment that nothing I said or did would change his mind.

  It was hours later when I finally became aware of my surroundings after I’d turned my gaze out the truck’s window and kept it there. I had no idea what city we were in, or even what state, and I found that I didn’t care. I hadn’t spoken to Hawke and he hadn’t said a word to me. I hadn’t called Matty either and I couldn’t even muster the energy to do that now.

  Hawke had selected an exit from the Interstate that was well populated with hotels, restaurants and gas stations. He’d parked the truck in a parking lot of a drug store and when I forced myself to look at him, he said, “Why don’t you drop off your film for one-hour processing and I’ll get us checked in,” he said as he motioned to the hotel next door. “We can eat while we’re waiting for the pictures.”

  I managed a nod, but didn’t trust myself to speak. With the line at the photo department, it took about ten minutes to drop off my film and I was assured it would be ready within the hour. Hawke was waiting for me outside the drug store. “That place okay?” he asked as he pointed to a diner on the opposite side of the drug store.

  “Yeah,” I managed to say.

  We ate in silence, though I couldn’t force more than a few bites past my lips and I ignored the dessert Hawke ordered for me. By the time we were on our way back to the drug store to get my photos, I truly feared I would lose what little I’d eaten right there in the parking lot. I was still in a daze as I waited for the clerk to get my pictures for me when Hawke murmured in my ear that he’d be right back. The clerk was already ringing me up when Hawke returned and I became instantly alert when he plopped something down on the counter and said, “This too please” to the clerk.

  The sight of the bottle of lube had me lifting my eyes to seek out Hawke’s and I saw the hunger in them. Despite my inner turmoil, my whole body drew up tight with anticipation. I barely noticed Hawke pay for both my
pictures and the lube because all I was aware of was the moment Hawke reached down to link his fingers with mine. It felt so right that my heart surged with joy even as my brain fought to accept that what was going to happen between us would be just more pretending.

  Because Hawke didn’t really want me. My body, yes…me, no. And as hard as that was to accept, I knew it wouldn’t change anything. Hawke was going to end up breaking my heart, and I was going to let him.

  I let Hawke lead me to the truck. He didn’t release me as we neared it and when we reached the passenger side door, he nudged me up against it until my back was pressed against the cool metal. “I need to know if you still want this,” he said. The only place he was actually touching me was where our fingers were still joined, but his husky voice was like a sensual caress all over my body. I nodded.

  “Tell me what you want,” he ordered softly.

  “You,” I said simply.

  Tremors of need surged through my body as Hawke tugged me forward, but he merely opened the door for me and waited until I got into the truck before closing it again. The drive to the hotel took less than a minute and when Hawke opened the door and motioned for me to enter before him, the very first thing I noticed was the bed.

  The one bed.

  The door closed behind me, cloaking the room in semi-darkness since only the inner white, gauzy curtains were drawn. I didn’t even get a chance to turn around to face Hawke before he was reaching out and grabbing my arm. In one move, he turned me around and pressed me face first against the door. His whole body pressed up against mine and I shuddered when he pressed his cheek against mine, the burn scars teasing my skin. His hands covered mine and lifted them until they were above my head.

  “You made me promise, do you remember?” Hawke whispered, his lips skimming the edge of my mouth.

  I nodded. As much as I wished he was talking about the promise I’d just asked of him to not go after Buck and Denny in Laredo, I knew he was referring to the promise from the night before. The one where I’d asked him to fuck me again.

  Hawke pressed his erection against my ass as his fingers played with mine where they were pinned to the door.