Strike Back (Hawk Elite Security Book 1)

by Beth Rhodes

  Up the stairs, he followed the sound of Craig’s voice telling a funny story about the first time he’d ever flown on a plane. Hawk found the door with his hands and waited for a break in the conversation. “Hey babe.”

  “Dad.” Moira’s exuberant voice had him moving forward and taking her into his arms as he sat next to her on the bed. “Where’s Mom? Did you get her? Is she okay?”

  “We got her. She’s going to be okay.” Hawk moved trembling hands over his daughter’s head, her hair, her shoulders. He kissed her. “How are you feeling, baby?”

  Moira put her arms around him, and he didn’t have to see to know she was reliving it. A silent sob shook her shoulders, before she took a deep breath. “Thank you for saving me.”

  “My pleasure.” He laid her back, saw just the outline of her face and touched it. He lifted the blankets over her legs and leaned in to kiss her again. “I’m going to check on Mom, okay?”

  “I want to see her.”

  “You can in a little while. Daddy’s going to see her first, make sure she’s okay.”

  “Love you, Dad.”

  He ran his hand through her thick, curly hair. “Love you, too.”

  Outside the room, he found Craig leaning against the wall. Hawk looked him up and down. “Thanks for everything you did out there, Craig. No matter what, anytime you need anything…all you have to do is ask. You stood up—” His voice broke a little. “You proved yourself on this team tonight. I can’t thank you enough. You’ll always have a place at Hawk Elite.”

  “Thank you, sir. Just doing my job.”

  “It was more than that…” Hawk glanced down the hall. Stacy was down there. Why was he suddenly so unsure of himself?

  “Go on, sir. She won’t care that you can’t see her. It certainly didn’t stop you from getting the job done.”

  He blew out a breath. “Am I that transparent?”

  “I just know how I’d feel if I suddenly couldn’t see anymore.”

  Hawk nodded. “Thanks.”

  Craig nodded then left his side and headed down the stairs.

  He was alone. In the hallway of Julio’s house, unable to see his fucking hand in front of his face. Voices drifted from the open doorway not ten feet away.

  He took the steps slowly and followed the sound of Tan and Stacy’s voice.

  She was awake again. Relief made him lightheaded, and he leaned in the doorway as his throat closed against the relief that poured through him. They had done it. They had taken out the man who wanted them dead. They were all alive.

  “Well, there’s another patient, if I ever saw one.” The sound of American—sweet, Southern drawl, no less—surprised him. He could only assume the words were meant for him.

  He shrugged. “I’m fine.” He came through the doorway, shuffled past the tall dresser, which he knew was there, only because he’d been here before.

  The heat of the doctor’s approach warned him, and he stepped back. Every instinct to close up and protect himself. “I’m fine. You should take care of Stacy.”

  “How long since you could see?” She put a hand on his arm.

  “I was seeing okay this morning, then when we left the warehouse, the lights on the front of the truck—” Hawk cleared his throat. “It obliterated my vision. It’s a usual occurrence, though. And I really think you should be taking care of Stacy.”

  “Shut up, Nathan.” Stacy spoke from across the room. And it was a strong response, giving him hope.

  “I’m going to touch your face now,” the doctor said, ignoring his suggestion. She leaned in, and said softly, “I think I know who needs medical attention, and since I already attended to your wife…”

  Hawk nodded as fingers touched his eyelids, widening them and then shining a pen light.

  “I can see the light.” He said the words then stopped, holding his breath for a moment as a chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Okay, I did not just say that.”

  Stacy laughed, and it was a sound that finally made the ache inside of him ease.

  Hawk pulled away from the doctor’s touch. “I need to go to my wife now.”

  Because he’d been in the worst place a man can be, and he’d been able to get out. Now, he just needed to touch her. Screw his vision and nerves that had been damaged years ago. Screw the bumps and bruises. Being blind wouldn’t be so bad because he had her.

  The doctor patted his shoulder. “I’ll bring something for the headache. You should really rest your eyes and your head for the next twenty-four hours, and I definitely don’t recommend a transcontinental flight right away.”

  “We’ll see.” Hawk stepped around the woman and bumped into a bed with his knees. He turned and followed the edge to the side with Stacy, and she tugged his hand.

  He sat next to her. “You okay?” he whispered, leaning into the hand that had come up to cup his cheek. He took it and kissed her palm.

  “Yeah. A little bruising won’t stop me.”

  He paused as the words came to sharp clarity in his mind. “I could’ve lost you today—”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “And now?” She sounded uncertain, and he supposed he was to blame for that.

  “And now we go home, and we go back to work.”

  Her arms snaked through his and circled his chest so she could rest her ear above his heart, and knowing that she was listening, made all the difference in the world. “Good. I know you, Hawk. You’ll find a way to use or lose this head thing.”

  His heart filled. How had he gotten so lucky all those years ago?

  “I love you, Stace.”

  “Love you, too.” She tightened her grip on his hand.

  “Mom?” Moira stood in the doorway. Hawk waved her over. She hurried and climbed onto the bed, crawling up to snuggle under Stacy’s arm.

  Both of his girls laid back into the pillows, and the look of relief, the look of concern and worry in Stacy’s eyes when she found him watching them, struck a chord inside of him.

  The love he carried for these two battered his conscience and forced him to protect, at all costs, even his pride.

  Failure was not an option for Hawk Security—the man or the team.

  He took Stacy’s hand in his own and held it as she fell asleep.

  With his team and with her, he would protect his family.

  And together, they would be everything this company needed.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  He’d fought them going to Germany, and in the end, he hadn’t been able to say no to her. Stacy took no pride in the use of her own feminine wiles to convince him. As the taxi drove toward the hospital in Frankfurt, and the lights cut through the dark at even intervals, she glanced at his profile and saw strength in the line of his jaw.

  Something had changed him in Manila. He was no longer plagued by the anger.

  At glance her way, he whispered, “What?”

  “Nothing, just thinking about all that’s happened. Thinking about Mom and Willy.”

  “They’re going to be fine.” Hawk answered as the driver pulled into the hospital drive.

  Stacy knew, physically, they were both going to live, but the scars were a different story. She held tightly to Moira’s hand. “Willy is strong and he’s easy-going. He’ll be okay, don’t you think? I mean, of all the kids, he’s the one who takes everything in stride.”

  Worry gnawed at her, though. Would that be good or bad? Would he too easily hide the effects?

  Moira pulled her earbud from her ear. She’d had them in a lot since they left Manila, and even that worried her. “He’s probably already bragging about his scar, Mom.”

  She chuckled. And the car came to a full stop. Hawk got out and held the door open for Stacy. She dragged her purse off her shoulder and went around him to pay the driver. Hawk had a hand on her shoulder as they hit the lobby. He’d been doing that a lot, too.

  Just small touches, the kind that had disappeared after the first five years of marr
iage. Sleeping in each other’s arms, when typically, he kept to his own side. Holding hands.

  She knew it wouldn’t last, so she was soaking it all in.

  Her dad stood inside the doors, waiting for them, and she hurried to him. He opened his arms and hugged her, hard. “Dad.”

  He kissed the top of her head, looking up to find Hawk behind her.

  “Nathan. How are you son?” He pulled her to his side to greet Hawk.

  Hawk gripped the man’s hand. “Hanging in there.”

  Her dad nodded and then gestured to the elevators. “Upstairs. Everyone’s waiting for you.” His eyes twinkled when he smiled, holding his arm out for Moira, who took it just like a little princess.

  Hawk went for Stacy’s hand as they followed the two upstairs. She leaned into him, needing his presence there to remind her…they were alive. Cortez was dead. Really dead this time.

  Two doors down from the elevators on the second floor, her dad stopped. “Here we are.”

  Stacy had the craziest impulse to run away. She didn’t like seeing the evidence that what they did in this world could wreak havoc on her own family. The guilt was there.

  “We overcome, Stacy. We don’t forget. We don’t play the blaming game. We don’t stop doing what we do. We just overcome.”

  On a deep breath, she nodded. “I know. Just hard.”

  “They’re waiting, though.”

  Tears pricked her eyes. “Yeah,” she said, and went into the brightly lit room full of all the people she loved most. Willy came limping at her, his leg wrapped in white bandage. She took his weight, hugging him hard. “My brave, brave boy.” She kissed his face until he squirmed away. “How are you feeling, Willy?”

  “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  “Who taught him that?” Stacy rolled her eyes. “Well, if you’re fine, I guess you won’t need ice cream on the way home.”

  “Mom.” He lifted his brow.

  “Fine. Pizza? Burger? You can have anything you want.”

  A light came to his mischievous five-year-old eyes. “Anything?”

  “You’re being ridiculous, Mom,” Moira finally spoke up.

  Maybe she was. She didn’t care. Holy crap, there was a part of her just barely holding it together. And then there was her John, standing in the corner, quiet…thoughtful. Taking it all in, and she knew, still processing and wondering and probably blaming himself.

  Hawk moved around her and went to him, held out his man’s hand for his son to take. John looked from that hand to his father’s face. And then he finally took it, and Hawk dragged him into an embrace. “Thank you, John,” Hawk whispered to their son.

  And Stacy finally blinked at the tears and wiped them with a shaking hand.

  John’s eyes were squeezed shut, wet from the emotions he couldn’t hold in anymore. “I’m so sorry, Dad.”

  Hawk braced his hands on his son’s shoulders and spoke quietly. Words only for John to hear. John nodded and relief filled his eyes. They hugged again, and then John broke free to come and hug her.

  “Well, this is a fine reunion,” her mom piped up from the bed. She was also wiping tears away. “It’s just like hard times to bring a family closer together, don’t you think, William?”

  Her dad nodded. “Yes, ma’am. That’s the truth.”

  Her mom looked better than she’d expected for a sixty plus year old woman who had been shot. “What are the doctors saying, Mom?”

  “I’ll be here a little while. Nothing for you to worry about, dear,” she said sternly. “I want you to take the kids back to the house. Get them out of this place. And then you go home.”

  Stacy glanced at Hawk. “We’ll talk, Mom. We want to be here to help while you recover.”

  “Pshh.” Her mom waved a hand. “I’m as strong as an ox.”

  Her dad would worry. He was the worrier. And he was the one who would have to deal with her, too. “We’ll see.”

  She leaned down and kissed her mom’s cheek.

  “First things first, though. I do think we’ll get these kids out of your hair until tomorrow.”

  “They’re no trouble, Stacy.”

  “I know, Mom,” she said, and laughed at how that sounded oh-so-familiar. “I love you. Get some rest. Talk to Dad. He looks a little lost. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

  Hawk had Willy in his arms, for no reason—probably—except that he was feeling the dig of those emotions, just like she was.

  ***

  They registered for two connecting rooms and settled in at the nearest hotel.

  Hawk didn’t spare any expense this time. He just wanted things to be convenient and hassle free, so they ate dinner at the restaurant on the street across from the hotel. The kids talked the whole time, and he let them. All he wanted to do was sit back and watch, everything, everyone.

  Stacy. Who was holding it together so well, had that intense aura of needing some serious down time soon. He was looking forward to a little down-time himself...especially with her. But he liked to call that up-time. He cleared the snerk from his throat and found her looking at him. She gave him a look of question, which he shrugged off.

  Then he reached over and touched her hair.

  The need to touch was a sharp knife against his heart.

  He smiled back at her, lighting that familiar heat in her eyes. Letting her know that he intended to have her tonight.

  A blush rose on her neck, and she turned away to continue the conversation with John about learning to fly with Grandpa. Willy interrupted at fairly regular intervals. And it was Moira who stayed quiet.

  Hawk imagined it was going to be a minefield of ups and down, emotions, stress, and conversations before life seemed normal again. Until the kids felt safe.

  Awful as it sounded, he was glad it had happened here. He wanted to bundle them all up and take them home. Their home would always be the one safe haven. No matter what, his kids would know that there, in Raleigh, on their farm, they were safe.

  “Hawk?”

  He looked up into her eyes. “Yes?”

  “I said, I think we’re all ready to go crash.”

  He looked around and they were all staring at him. His hand was still entwined in her hair, and he let go. “Of course. Let’s go.”

  She hugged him. “You okay?”

  She smelled good, too, and he didn’t stop himself from taking her into his arms like he might have if everything about this moment were normal. He buried his face in her neck, breathed in her scent, and then kissed the soft skin under her ear.

  Just for a minute. Just as a preview.

  Letting go, she took his face and kissed his lips—soft, warm, and intimate. She made that little humming noise in the back of her throat. “I know just how you feel. Come on.”

  They walked out with the kids, stopping to pay before they left.

  This was where his life started. With these people.

  They accepted him, damaged goods and all.

  He really was the luckiest man on earth.

  Epilogue

  Three Months Post Surgery

  “Mom's going to kill us.”

  “Would you put the darn block of wood on the stump so I can split it, John?”

  Six months after the surgery to remove the scar tissue, Hawk was glad for one thing, no headaches. Successful to an extent, his vision had not completely returned.

  Hawk felt for the top of the steel wedge with one hand and lifted the ax with the other. He made one slow trial swing, vetting the distance, then held the ax in both hands and swung hard.

  Wood splintered.

  John moaned.

  “How far off the mark am I?”

  “Dad.”

  “Just tell me. I'm not going to get mad.” Hawk smiled, showing all his teeth. Despite not being able to see the details of his son's face, the grimace and roll of the eyes came through loud and clear.

  “Six inches.”

  “See? What an improvement!” Hawk laughed and wrapped his arm around John'
s neck. “Before you know it, I'll be splitting logs, no problem.”

  “Hi, Mom,” John said.

  Hawk's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly handed the ax off to John who took it, all the while laughing his ass off.

  “She's not here, is she?”

  Laughter echoed through the canopy created by the trees in the dense wood at the back of their property. Well hidden from the house, yet close enough to hear someone calling.

  “Nope.”

  “Funny, ha ha. Now give me the ax.” The ribbing didn't bother him; it helped, actually. He'd found that laughing at his predicament far surpassed the moping he'd made everyone suffer through prior to the trip to Belize.

  He slipped the ax into the sheath at his back. “Let's head up to the house for dinner.”

  Hawk liked to close his eyes as he walked toward the house. Chester barked as they passed his doghouse, and a breeze caught the top of the maple tree at the slight rise before the driveway. Down the drive to the back of the house was the two-car garage, and straight ahead―Hawk breathed deeply―Stacy waited on the back porch.

  “Thanks for helping, John.” Hawk rested a hand on his son's shoulder, giving it a squeeze before John ran up the stairs and into the house.

  “No snacking,” Stacy called out as she took Hawk's hand and led him to the swing.

  “He was working hard. Give him a break.” Hawk unstrapped the sheath and set the leather and ax on the floor under them.

  “Working, huh?”

  Hawk stopped her inquisition by pulling her into his arms and covering her soft mouth with his own. Nipping lightly at her lips, he agreed, “Working hard.”

  She gripped his shirt and ran a finger down the side of his neck. “Or, hardly working...”

  He grinned, lifted her into his lap and leaned into the embrace, as if unable to get everything he needed, everything he wanted in that instant.

  Stacy's arms came around his neck. “Don't hurt yourself, Hawk. That's all I ask.”

  “I thought I would hate depending on people, but John―” He softly kissed her lips when his voice failed him. “John is strong. He makes me laugh, even when I make a fool of myself.”