Hawk: A Stepbrother Romance Part 19

She looks at me, fear in her eyes. Her voice is barely a whisper. I have to strain to hear.

"Do you think he killed your mom so he could marry mine? It was only like a year after she died."

I clench my fists and bite my lip.

"Maybe."

"G.o.d. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. She doesn't seem... she's weird. Was she always like that?"

"They were only married for two months when she signed the papers to have me committed to a psych ward, Hawk. I've never been close with her and it was really rough after dad died. You remember."

"Yeah."

I remember.

The little apartment they shared was like a tomb. I was only sixteen myself, I had no idea what the h.e.l.l was going on. Alex would just sit there and stare and it was like May refused to believe that her father was gone. She was what, ten at the time?

"How can we follow Tom without him noticing?" Alexis says.

I blink. "What? Oh, right. My truck?"

She gives me an annoyed look. "Hawk, we might as well follow him in a fire engine with the siren going."

"Don't you have a car?"

"Yeah," she sighs. "My Honda. Wouldn't he spot us following him? I mean we'd be leaving from the same place."

"Not if we hang back. Maybe park it on the street?"

"I don't know, Hawk."

"It'll be dark. He won't see us. You can still stay behind if you want."

"Not a chance in h.e.l.l," she says, folding her arms.

"Fine. Be ready to go any moment, we don't know when he's planning to leave."

She nods.

This time I head out the door, rather than climb up. I peer out into the hallway and head upstairs quickly, watching to see if someone spotted me. The coast is clear, looks like. Now I just have to get ready and wait.

Alexis Now This is nuts, I shouldn't be doing this. I should let somebody else handle it. I should call Jennifer and tell her what's going on.

No. This is my responsibility. I have to see Tom Richardson go to prison. I have to know my sister and Hawk will be safe.

Hawk may not be afraid of his father anymore, but I am. So I pace my bedroom, walking from the door to the edge of the bed and back again, and back again, and back again. Seeing as it's July, the sun is going to go down late, and I pace for hours, stopping only to rest and pace some more. Then I hear the tapping on my window and open it and Hawk slides into my room, dressed for sneaking, which apparently means a black t-shirt and jeans and his freaking combat boots.

He scoots across the bed and stands up, stretches, and yawns into his hand. I pace away from him and his hands shoot out and take my arms just above the elbows. I struggle for a second but fall into him as he pulls me towards him, my back against his chest, and he slips his arms around me and rests his chin on my head.

I can feel my pulse against his arms, slowing as he holds me. He doesn't say anything, but turns his head down to breathe in my hair, taking in my scent. I rest my hands on his wrists and mold against him with a soft sigh. No matter how complicated I feel about him right now, this is too rea.s.suring and calming to give up. It's like he's made of stone and I feel surrounded and safe.

"When do you think he'll leave?"

Hawk shrugs, his body moving against mine as he does. He lets go and turns to sit on the bed, watching through my window. I click my light off, lift the shade and sit cross-legged next to him.

"We can't go through the house. What if Lance sees us?"

"We're not going out through the door. I'll show you."

"You want me to climb down the side of the house?"

"It's not hard."

"Maybe we should go now," I sigh. "If we try after he leaves we'll lose him."

Hawk turns and stares out the window. There's something distant in his gaze, almost vacant. Beyond the gla.s.s, Paradise Falls is starting to light up for the night, a glow popping into windows as lamps turn on. In the distance, it looks like stars reaching out into the dark beyond. Outside of town, away from the buildings, it's pitch black at night, the dark so deep you can't see your hand in front of your face. Hawk taps my back with his fingers and I flinch.

"You're right. Come on. We'll hide out in the yard. Got your keys?"

"Yeah."

He lifts the window sash and climbs out, shuffles to the side, so he's peering around the edge of the window frame. He lowers his voice.

"Swing your legs out. I won't let you fall."

"What do I do?"

"Put your feet on the wall and feel. There's a strip of molding under the window that'll hold you. Keep a tight grip on the frame."

I nod and take a deep breath, scoot across the bed and slip my legs into the open air. Realizing I'm going to go out backwards, I roll around onto my stomach and slither across the blankets until I can swing my legs down and probe along the wall. Hawk puts his hand on the small of my back and I feel the molding he's talking about, like a shelf, about half as wide as my shoes. I slip out a little further and reach back to grip the window frame, and my heart speeds up.

It starts pounding as I squeeze the old wood in my fingers and hear it creak as I stick my b.u.t.t out in the air, swing my head under the sash, and stand up, holding on for dear life. Hawk nods at me and I shuffle to the side a little, carefully gripping the windowsill, and he pulls the sash down until it's about an inch above my hands.

Then the back door opens.

My heart pounds against my ribs as I look down and see Tom walk out of the house, right under us.

He stops on the porch, maybe five feet directly under us. If he happens to look up, he'll spot the two of us hanging on for dear life on the outside of the house, clearly climbing out through my bedroom window.

He's just standing there.

My hands start to shake. I'm squeezing the windowsill too hard and it makes it feel like my fingers are going to pop out of joint. Hawk is perfectly still, but I'm shaking harder every second. Tom checks his watch, then pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, taps one free, and sticks it in his mouth. Then he just stands there rolling it around on his lips before bringing a Zippo to the tip. The cigarette lights and casts a baleful red glow on his face as he takes a long puff and... lets it out as he stands there.

Come on, leave already!

My hands are getting tired. Hawk lets go of the strip of molding he's holding with one hand and puts it on my back, pressing me against the wall.

Fatigue begins to burn in my calves. If I relax my legs I'll slip right off the molding. I'm plenty strong enough to hold myself up like this but the longer I stay here without shifting, the more my calves start to burn. Hawk is trembling, too. He brings his hand back and I see his arms tense as he tries to take the pressure off his own legs.

I mouth, "Back inside."

He shakes his head. "Hear the window", he mouths silently.

Tom is still standing there, one hand in the pocket of his khakis, puffing on his cigarette. Finally he looks at it between his fingers, tosses it to the bottom of the porch stairs, and jogs down, stopping to grind it out with his heel. Hawk shifts and starts to move when Tom stops, turns, and walks back up the stairs. I freeze again, my calves on fire. My foot slips and hands in s.p.a.ce, and now only one food and my grip on the window is holding me up. My other foot starts to slip, the bottom of my sneaker sc.r.a.ping across the thin strip of molding as my heel tips down. Any second I'm going to slip loose and fall fifteen feet to the porch below.

Hawk grabs my waistband and grits his teeth, lifting me back up my main strength.

Tom jiggles the doork.n.o.b below us I get my footing again, but Hawk's own foot slips and he almost drops, sinking a foot right next to me as his leg bends as his other foot hangs in s.p.a.ce.

Turning, Tom jogs back down to the yard and then heads for the carriage.

"Move," Hawk chokes in a whisper. "Over to the corner."

Nodding, I let go of the window and dig my fingers into a strip of molding along the side of the house and start working my way over. I see where Hawk is going, now. The molding that runs along the corner is almost like a ladder. If I can lower myself down a bit at a time...

He pauses while I slip down, finally resting my feet on the roof of the porch overhang, but it's a steep slope and my shoes start to skid immediately. I have to grip the moldings until I can sit down and kick my heels into the shingles to stop from sliding right off. Hawk moves more deftly beside me, moving down the molding with practiced familiarity as I struggle to catch my breath quietly.

The door to the carriage house swings open. If Tom drives out with his headlights on, he'll have to see us. Hawk moves fast, swinging over and dropping to the ground next to the porch. I lean over the side, where he waits, beckoning me with his hands. I lay on the roof and swing my legs over, kicking for something to get some footing and climb down.

Hawk tugs my legs and I look back and him and suck in a breath, shimmy to the edge until my body sinks and I grasp at the shingles in a panic, but he rises up and grabs my waist and he's got me. My stomach does a backflip as I feel myself falling into s.p.a.ce, but Hawk takes my whole body weight just in his hands and lowers me into a embrace and settles my feet on the ground.

I plow into him, gasping for breath. Hawk yanks me around the side of the house in time for the headlights of Tom's Mercedes to sweep over where we just stood, throwing long shadows into the night. As the car pa.s.ses, he grabs my arm and we run, heading for my Honda.

I fumble with the keys, dive in and lean over to unlock his door. He rips it open and jumps in next to me.

"Hurry, we'll lose him. Easy."

The car chugs to life and I pull out behind Tom, my headlights off. I can see his tail lights turning the first corner. He's heading north. I push in the gas and Hawk puts his foot on my knee.

"Easy. Turn the lights on."

"We'll lose him."

"We've got this. Just drive. I'll watch him."

I nod, pull to a stop at the corner and turn to follow. The next five minutes is a tense game, spotting his headlights and brake lights, Hawk guiding me after him as I remain a turn or two behind.

"This is stupid, he'll see us."

"No, he won't. Just stay back and stay cool. He's not even paying attention to us."

"Are you sure? What if this is some kind of f.u.c.ked up test and he wants to see if I'm loyal to him or something?"

My hands squeeze the wheel so hard my arms tremble. Hawk puts his hand on my arm, and caresses my skin with his thumb.

"It's okay."

"It's not okay," I blurt out.

Easier to follow him now. His tail lights sway back and forth with the contours of the road, up and down with the hills as we leave town and head north, into the back country. The speed limit is forty five, so I stay just under that and pray he doesn't pay any attention to the car behind him, but why wouldn't he? He has to know.

"I don't know what he wants from me. I'm not sure if he wants me to be his daughter or he wants to f.u.c.k me or just keep me like some kind of f.u.c.ked up doll."

"I'm not going to let him hurt you."

I glance over at him, trembling, then back at the road.

"I wanted you to come back so badly."

"I had to stay away, Alex. I had to keep away from you. It was the only way to keep you safe. My father made it clear that if I even looked you up to see what you were doing he'd hurt you. He killed my mother. I couldn't let him hurt you. I wanted you to be happy with somebody else, and safe."

"I don't want somebody else, G.o.d d.a.m.n it, I want you."

I flinch at the words I just spit out. Hawk's hand slides over my shoulder and presses into the back of my neck.

"We're going to be okay. I think we should leave tonight. Let's turn around and get May and leave now, while he's gone."

"No. I have to help Jacob and Jennifer. I have to stop him. After what I heard today I know I can't leave. They're going to make him a senator or something, Hawk. He's sick, he's evil. Somebody has to stop him."

"Then let me do it. You can go to safety and-"

"And wait for you to come back? What if you don't come back this time? What if he decides you had your chance and this time you end up dead in a ditch somewhere? I won't let you leave me like that, you can't."

"n.o.body's going to kill me," he says, very softly.

"How do you know?"

"When I was a.s.signed to corps school I had to do an extra four weeks of basic training. Basically, I did Navy boot camp, and then part of Marine boot camp. The Marine drill instructor taught us something very important. Saved my life a few times in heavy s.h.i.t."

"What?"

"Yea though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil."

"For the Lord is with me?"

He smirks. "For I am the baddest motherf.u.c.ker in the valley."

I can't help it, I laugh.

"You laugh at a drill instructor like that and see what happens to you."

Tom's brakes light up and I slow down, too.

"Keep driving," Hawk says. "He's pulling off. Look."

There are some lights off the road. Faint and yellowy, they look like gas lamps or something like that. As Tom's headlights head up a dirt track, we drive right past.