Savage Collision: A Hawke Family Novel (The Hawke Family Book 1)

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Savage Collision: A Hawke Family Novel (The Hawke Family Book 1) Page 24

by Gwyn McNamee


  This isn’t over with Dom, not by a long shot. No way he’s going to just walk away knowing she’s still alive, knowing what she knows, what she could do to him, knowing she caused the death of his right-hand man and two others. But, I will deal with that tomorrow. Tonight, tonight is about taking care of her, making sure she realizes she is safe, giving her whatever she needs.

  Her unfocused, red-rimmed eyes search my face, but she doesn’t respond. Gabe opens the back door and helps her climb out, but as soon as I slide into my chair, she lurches to climb back into my lap. I don’t blame her. She’s terrified and still in shock.

  The silence continues on the elevator ride. Gabe holds the door to my condo open and Princess races out, jumping at me and then at Gabe’s legs. He scoops her up and nods as he heads across the hall to his place. No words are necessary. Not now.

  Hell, what would I say, anyway? Thanks for murdering three people to rescue my girlfriend?

  I head straight for the bathroom. While the medical staff did the best they could to somewhat clean her up, there’s still blood spattered and smeared on her cheek and in her hair.

  Thank God she hasn’t been able to look in a mirror.

  Stopping next to the glass door of the massive shower, I nudge her.

  “Baby, let’s get you out of these clothes and cleaned up.” She looks at me with vacant eyes and my heart breaks just a little more. I give her a fake, reassuring smile and capture her face between my palms. I don’t want to leave her for a moment, but I need to grab something for her to sleep in. “Can you get undressed while I run to the closet?”

  Terror flashes in her eyes and she shakes her head in my hands vigorously, mumbling about me not leaving her.

  “Shh, baby, I’ll be right outside. I’ll be back in a minute. I promise.” She whimpers but relaxes slightly, finally letting me help her stand. She wobbles slightly and grabs the edge of the counter with her free hand to help steady herself. “I’ll be right back,” I reassure her. She nods and reluctantly releases her death grip on my hand.

  I grab a t-shirt from my closet and return to her as quickly as I can.

  The two minutes I’m away from her are agonizing for me. I can’t even imagine how they are for her.

  She hasn’t moved. Her entire body is tense. She stands with her back to the shower, her eyes locked on some unknown spot on the tile floor.

  I set the shirt on the counter and capture her hand, bringing it up to my mouth and pressing my lips to soft skin on the back. “Come on, let’s get you in the shower.”

  Her gaze flickers over to mine and she nods in agreement.

  The silence is deafening.

  Danika is always alive with chatter, filling those voids with her bubbly personality, inappropriate comments, and witty retorts. Now, she’s just a shell of the woman I know and love.

  Come back to me.

  Moving agonizingly slowly, she removes her dress, her coat long since gone, as it carried the most evidence of Paul’s death. After pulling it off over her head, she lets it fall to the ground, then slowly removes her bra and panties, letting them fall without ever looking at me.

  After months of not seeing her, to have her standing here, beautiful and naked in front of me, and to feel nothing but regret and fear, tears my soul apart. She’s broken, beautiful, but broken, and there isn’t anything I can do to make this easier for her. I would take all her pain if I could, wipe away the memories of everything she saw and experienced tonight. I would do anything for her.

  Using the touchpad on the wall, I turn on the shower jets and usher her to the stall. Steam fogs the glass and the temperature in the room rises rapidly.

  I urge her to enter the stream of hot water. She pauses before she steps in, turning to look at me. “You aren’t leaving, are you?” Her voice is faint and shaky, and I fear she’s on the verge of another meltdown if I refuse her plea.

  She’s never seen me completely naked.

  It was never a conscious decision, but now that I’ve spent so much time talking with Doc, I realize I’ve intentionally prevented her from seeing all of me. My fear of rejection was always overtaking the overwhelming desire I’ve always had for her touch me.

  Right now, she needs me. That’s all that matters. My mental shit isn’t important.

  “I’m right behind you.” She nods and releases my hand, stepping into the shower and moving under the hot spray.

  I undress, dropping my clothes on top of Danika’s before I move onto the bench along the rear wall of the stall. She has her back to me, her face turned up into the water which cascades down over her shoulders.

  It should be sexual, but all I can picture is that vacant look in her eyes, the way her body shook against me as she sobbed.

  She reaches down and grabs the shampoo bottle, pouring it into her hand and massaging it into her hair before turning around and dousing her long, blonde curls under the spray. The red-tinged water swirls down her body and into the drain.

  Shit.

  I cringe, again thankful she never looked in a mirror to see the horror coating her. I know she knows I’m here, even though she hasn’t acknowledged my presence verbally. Her shoulders relaxed the moment I entered. Knowing I might have helped relieve some of the distress, even a little, is at least something.

  Her head drops and she opens her eyes, fixing them on mine. The vacant look is still there, but underneath it, I see a glimmer of my girl, giving me hope she will get through this.

  Please, baby, let me help you.

  She reaches down and grabs the bar of soap off the ledge, closing her eyes again as she runs it over her body, the suds rolling over her pink flesh and down the drain.

  When she’s done, I reach up and turn on the spray above the bench seat, drowning myself in water that’s almost too hot. She steps toward me, placing her taut belly right in front of my face. I reach out, placing my hand on her hip and drawing her to me, my mouth finding the flat expanse of her stomach. “I love you, Danika.”

  I don’t know if she hears me over the rushing water, and it doesn’t matter. I don’t need to hear her say it back.

  Her fingers weave into my wet hair, nails scratching my scalp. She sobs, her body pressing against mine as she breaks down, collapsing onto her knees on the tile. I should have expected her to fall apart again, but seeing her like this, naked and vulnerable, throws me. It’s so different than the Dani I know.

  She wraps her arms around my waist, pressing her face against my chest, her tears mixing with the water cascading around us. I hold her, burying my face in her wet hair. I hold her until our skin prunes and there’s so much steam in the room I can barely see two feet in front of me.

  “Baby?” I gently pull her face away from my chest, cradling her in my hands. “Let’s go to bed.”

  She nods and slowly gets to her feet, never looking away from me. Sliding the door open, she slips out around my chair and grabs two towels from the warming rack. She wraps one around her body, hands me one, and turns to the counter, wiping the steam from the mirror. I watch her out of the corner of my eye as I dry off. She stares at her image, unmoving, until I finally make it to her side, placing my hand on her arm.

  Jerking slightly at my touch, she tenses before letting out a deep breath and closing her eyes. When she opens them again, she gives me what I think is supposed to be a smile. She takes her toothbrush from the holder and hands me mine. We finish getting ready for bed in silence. She pulls my t-shirt over her head and disappears into the bedroom.

  I follow her into the room. The faint moonlight flowing in through the blinds and curtains falls over her form, which is already huddled under the covers in my bed.

  Our bed. Or, at least, it will be.

  I climb in and slide behind her, pulling her against me and wrapping her in my arms. She whimpers and pushes back against me, closing her hands over mine across her chest.

  She can’t get close enough to me, and I completely understand the feeling. If I could find a way to
stay like this forever, and never let her go, I would do it without a second thought.

  The emotional and physical exhaustion of the day overwhelms me and I start to drift off. I snap my eyes open, not wanting to sleep if she needs or wants to talk, but I feel the steady rise and fall of her chest and know she’s sleeping. I let myself go, both relieved and thankful to finally have her here in my arms and terrified of what tomorrow will bring for us.

  Paul’s brown eyes bore into mine, accusations in his stare…I got him into this. He’s right. I never should have pressed him. I did this. I brought this monster down on us.

  The click of the trigger reverberates in my head and then side of Paul’s head explodes, blood splatters my face, and I scream…

  “Shit, Danika! Wake up!”

  Strong arms wrap around me, shaking me gently and my own scream echoes in the room. Hot tears pour down my cheeks. My chest is so tight, I can’t seem to get oxygen into my lungs.

  “Baby, you’re okay. It was just a dream. You’re safe.”

  Savage.

  He pulls on my shoulder, forcing me onto my back as he hovers over me.

  Even in the dim moonlight, I can see the fear and concern in his eyes. He searches my face, brushing the tears from my cheeks and kissing my forehead. “You’re okay, Danika.”

  I shake my head, digging my fingers into his ribcage in frustration. “No, I’m not okay. He killed him, Savage. He killed him, because of me. He blew his goddamn head off.” A noise I don’t even recognize rips from my chest. Savage pulls me into his body, pressing his face into my neck.

  His warm breath fans over my ear as he holds me through my meltdown. “No, Danika, it wasn’t your fault. Paul made his own choices. He knew what he was getting into when he agreed to help you.”

  None of this would have happened if I hadn’t insisted he keep trying. He was ready to walk away. If I hadn’t been so damn determined to break this story and advance my career, he would still be alive.

  Why the hell did I go meet him alone? Why didn’t I insist on him coming to me, somewhere safe?

  I close my eyes, but all I see is the side of his head exploding, blood, and the shock and fear in his eyes before he collapsed onto me. Unnatural sounds continue to emanate from somewhere deep inside of me, and Savage continues to murmur reassurances I know aren’t true.

  “Everything is not okay!” I scream, pushing at his heavy body.

  He doesn’t understand!

  “You have no idea what it’s like to look in someone’s eyes as they die…. You can’t possibly understand…. Things will never be okay…”

  He lets me push him away, rolling onto his back while maintaining his hand on my hip. I feel the tension in his body, and I realize I’m being a total bitch when all he is doing is trying to help, but if he tells me things will be okay one more time, I might punch him in the nuts.

  I stare at the ceiling, watching the shadows cast by the moonlight. I can’t look at him, not now.

  Savage jerks up, flicking on the lamp on his nightstand, momentarily blinding me. “What the hell?” I cover my eyes and roll onto my side, turning my back to him and the offending light.

  “You’re wrong…” he says, his usually strong, sure voice breaking and quivering slightly, enough that I roll back to face him. I see him waging an internal struggle and my stomach knots, my fears over the last six weeks about the future of my relationship mingling with the intense emotions leftover from the night’s events.

  “Wrong about what?”

  He runs his hands back through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the ceiling. The tension in his body sets my heart pounding and brings bile up my throat.

  “I do know, what it’s like to watch someone die.”

  My heart stutters in my chest and my mind races trying to process what he said. “What…what do you mean?”

  Sighing, he drops down onto his back and turns his head to face me. “I was going to tell you tonight…. It was one of the things I needed to explain to you.”

  Sliding closer to him, I press my hand on his chest and his heart races under my palm. “Savage, what are you trying to tell me?”

  He closes his eyes briefly and when he reopens them, they shimmer with unshed tears. “I know I told you I would never lie to you, that I was an open book, but, I did…I lied to you, I lied to everyone, about the accident.”

  The accident?

  We haven’t discussed the accident since the first night he told me the story. It isn’t exactly something I would bring up, and he doesn’t like talking about it, for obvious reasons. But, I remember every single detail he told me that night.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Shit…” He grinds his palms into his eyes before returning his gaze to me. “I didn’t tell anyone the truth. I thought I was protecting them, making it easier.”

  “Savage, I don’t understand…”

  He slips his arm around my back and rubs his hand down my spine and I shiver at his touch. “I know. I’m sorry. This is just…fuck…a lot harder than I thought it would be. It was so much easier to tell Dr. Cochran.”

  “Who’s Dr. Cochran?”

  “My shrink.”

  I hope my face doesn’t show my shock at finding out Savage has been seeing a shrink. He never seemed the type to lay on a couch and vent. He’s always so strong, and sure…I can’t imagine how hard it must be for him to open up to a total stranger and show any vulnerability.

  “You’re seeing a psychiatrist?”

  He nods, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. “I know, hard to believe, isn’t it?”

  I return his half-smile. “Kinda. So, tell me about the accident. What do you need to come clean about?”

  He takes a deep breath, letting it out in a rush. “I told everyone I was unconscious almost immediately, and don’t remember anything about the accident. But, that’s not true. I was awake, very much awake, until just after the rescue personnel finally got me out of the car.”

  Somehow, I manage to get my hand over my mouth to stifle my gasp. He was awake? The entire time? Envisioning the pain he must have been in, the terror he must have felt, makes my stomach churn and I have to swallow down the bile threatening to rise.

  “After the car rolled, I was disoriented for a minute, but when I finally came around, I realized the car was on a strange angle and my legs were crushed beneath the dashboard, my seat twisted around toward the window. I yelled out for Star, but she didn’t answer me. The position I was in, I could barely move, but I turned my head and looked over my shoulder…and I saw her…”

  He trails off and it finally clicks, what he said…”I know what it’s like to watch someone die.”

  “Oh, my God.” I can’t stop the words from tumbling from my mouth as the tears well in my eyes, spilling in hot trails down my cheeks. He brushes them away with his thumbs and a sad smile forms on his face.

  “She was still alive. I told everyone she died instantly, because I didn’t want them to know she suffered. She was crushed. I couldn’t see anything below the middle of her chest. I reached my hand out, searching for her, trying to touch her. I said her name, begged her to talk to me. Her eyes found mine, and I knew she knew she wasn’t going to make it…”

  His voices breaks and he clears his throat, taking another cleansing breath before he continues. “I finally felt her hand, and I grabbed it. She squeezed back so lightly I almost didn’t feel it. I told her she was going to be all right. She shook her head and said my name. It was so soft, I barely heard it…and when she spoke…”

  A sob breaks free, his chest seizing under me and I press my lips to his cheek, totally clueless how to comfort him.

  “When she tried to speak, blood poured from her mouth…and I knew…I clutched her hand and talked to her, kept telling her we were going to be okay. I knew it was a lie. I knew she wasn’t going to make it, and I knew there was a good chance I wouldn’t either. The pain was overwhelming, but I also realized I co
uldn’t feel my legs, and, knowing they were crushed and I should be feeling something, I knew…”

  I can barely see him through my tears. I fight the sobs continuously rising in my throat, but eventually they erupt and he pulls me against him, bringing his face next to mine, pressing his lips to my temple. “Don’t cry, baby,” he murmurs, his hand slowly sliding up and down my back.

  Don’t cry? He can’t be serious…

  “She died within minutes. I watched the life drain from her face, her lifeless eyes staring at me…so, baby, I know it’s not exactly the same thing, but I need you to know, it does get better, easier. Eventually, you won’t see it every time you close your eyes. It never goes away, not totally, but it does get better.”

  I want to believe him, want to believe the images in my head will eventually fade, but right now, that seems impossible. I pull back from his chest, now wet with my tears, and I wipe his from his face.

  He gives me a sad smile and leans up to kiss me gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth from the beginning.”

  I shake my head, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “It’s okay. I understand why you didn’t tell me, why you didn’t tell your family.”

  “Do you think I should tell them?”

  “No.” I answer quickly, and he looks surprised at my instant reaction. “There isn’t any reason to put them through that, is there?”

  “No, I guess there isn’t. But, I’m glad I told you, and I’m glad Dr. Cochran made me realize I needed to talk about it.”

  The relief is apparent in his voice, and the darkness swallowing me lightens knowing he found a way to deal with whatever was going on with him, whatever was keeping us apart. “You like him then?”

  He tenses under me and glances away before returning his eyes to mine. “Um, her, and yeah, she’s good.”

  Her? His shrink is a woman?

  The thought of him revealing everything about himself to someone else, when he couldn’t to me, is hard enough, but learning it’s a woman…

  Rip my fucking heart out why don’t you?

  I see the trepidation in his gaze, and I know he’s concerned with my reaction. As much as the gaping hole in my chest hurts like a bitch, I’m somehow rational enough to realize it doesn’t matter who he is talking to, as long as it means he talks to me in the end.

 

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