Hawk (A Stepbrother Romance #3)(31)

“Alex,” he murmurs. “I want it to be like it was. I want you to trust me again.”

“Hawk, we can’t, we can’t. He doesn’t make idle threats. He’ll kill us all. This is bigger than you realize.”

I push away from him. “We had our time. It’s over now.”

“Alex, please-”

“Not again, Hawk. I can’t let anybody in ever again. You should go.”

He looks at me and I want nothing more than to spread my robe open and crawl on top of him. I want him above me, inside me.

He opens the window and carefully crawls out, planting his feet on the moldings that run under the windows, testing his weight before he swings out and grabs something. He puts one foot on the sill of my window and starts to climb up.

“Alex,” He says.

“Just go.”

“I love you.”

He rises up out of view and disappears, and I close the window, fall on my bed, and sob.





Hawk





Now





I crawl back into my room.

I had my pick of the third floor, I guess, so I took this one. It was my mother’s sewing room. The only concession to her presence is the old sewing machine. For the most part it’s just another spare bedroom, no different from the others. When I left, this place was full of her.

Pictures on the wall. Her sewing projects stacked up on the bed. Plastic cabinets full of surprises. Sewing for her was no idle thing, she made most of her own clothes and some of mine. The whole house is like this now. It hit me when I walked in. All the pictures of her are gone, all of the things she brought to our home are gone. She’s been erased.

I left a generous tip for the motel lady, even though she never cleaned my room. I walked here after I returned the Mustang. I’ve got nothing but the clothes on my back and in my bag, half that store bought when I arrived here. I sink into the bed and think about Alex below me. I can see her in my mind’s eye as clearly as if she lay here now, curled up on the bed.

I should go back down there.

The hurt in her voice slices through me like a knife; thinking about it now is like conjuring the memory of an old injury, feeling it’s pain again. My hands start to shake. This is how it begins. I think of my father down there in his office, scribbling some note with a fountain pen. I should just walk in there, grab it out of his hand, and jam the point into his eye and push until he stops moving. It would be that simple.

I’d go to prison but it wouldn’t matter. Alex would be free.

Except, that’s what I believed the last time. I was setting her free.

My father is a monster, yes, but to do that to her? Even he had to have a reason. I need to find out what that is. I need to convince Alex to come with me so I can keep her safe. Her and her sister. We need to go now, not when May turns eighteen. The longer we wait the higher the chance something will happen to them.

God damn it, Hawk, you piece of shit, you abandoned her.

I clap my head in my hands and try to keep it from exploding. God I was so f*cking stupid, f*ck! Fuck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck, I could rip my own head off for this. I thought I was keeping her safe. Everything that happened to her was my own fault.

This is my fault.

I should have stood up to him before. I should have said no. I should have fought the good fight and done the right thing. My cowardice is like a blade raking my back. I was afraid of my father, of what he would do, of what he would do to her. I was ready to sacrifice my own life the instant I realized what I’d found in his office, but the thought of Alexis coming to harm was enough to silence me.

I thought she’d be safe.

I lean on the window and look out. Paradise Falls looks like a town in a snow globe. How can there be such vile things here?

What the f*ck am I going to do now?

I didn’t have much of a plan, but I have exactly zero idea where to go from here. I don’t even know why I showed up here and demanded to move in. Except, of course, that I do know why. I had to be closer to Alexis. Keep an eye on her. Maybe if I knew there was something wrong I could have done something about mom.

Why won’t she leave?

She said something about overhearing my father, or something like that. With who? About what?

What in the hell is going on here?

Sprawled out on the bed, I stare up at the ceiling and try to think, but my head feels like it’s made out of mush. I can’t concentrate, can’t sleep. Alexis is directly below me, maybe six feet away and I can’t go to her.

If I’d checked up on her sooner, this would never have happened. How many times did she imagine me swooping into save her while she was in that hospital? How many times did she dream I’d bust through the door and carry her out and make it all okay again? She said it herself, she prayed and pleaded for me to return.

Every prayer unanswered was a failure. Every silent plea ignored, another black mark on my soul. The weight of my own stupidity feels like a sandbag on my chest as I sit up and confront the realization. I can make all the excuses I want, I took the easy way out.

I think if, instead of leaving that night for Philadelphia, if I’d gone to Alex and told her what was going on, she’d have come with me. Brought her sister. We could have run.

And gone where, though? My father was right. If he could call in a freaking senator for help, how was I supposed to take Alexis from his grasp? What was I supposed to do? I was eighteen years old, had no resources, no real money of my own, I was totally dependent on my parents and my mother was dead and my father a monster.