Page 27 of Heartless

“I’m sure you believe your punishment was unfairly harsh, but you need to know that life is like that. Never feel comfortable, Olivia, because in that comfort, death lurks.”

Iris opened the door, and then, almost as if it was an afterthought, she said the words that she knew would devastate her daughter. “By the way, your grandmother is dead.”

She refused to outwardly react to the pain that slammed into her. She just asked mildly, “Did you kill her?”

Iris huffed. “I’m not into matricide.”

The door closed, leaving Olivia alone to grieve for the only person she had ever loved.

Until Hawke.

She had left home that day and never returned. Boarding school hadn’t been the punishment her parents had likely meant it to be. She had made a few friends and, for a short period of time, had felt like a normal person. On the day of her graduation, everything had changed. She had once again been sucked back into a world she hadn’t wanted. And somehow, she had stayed.

Blowing out a soft sigh, she raised her head from her knees, unsurprised to see Hawke sitting only a few feet away from her. She had often accused him of having feline DNA. A six-four, two-hundred-and-twenty-pound man should not be able to move as quietly as he could.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Like I was beaten and drugged.”

“We need to talk.”

“Did you know?”

“Know what?”

“Did you know you wouldn’t be coming back when you left?”

“Yes.”

She supposed she’d known this since last night. His confirmation made little difference.

“That’s why you gave me the divorce papers,” she said softly.

She stared up at him, trying with all her might to see the man she’d married, the man she had loved with all her heart. There were glimpses in the depths of his beautiful silver-gray eyes, but the beard obscured most of his expression. She felt as if she were looking at a stranger.

“Get out,” she said.

“We have to talk.”

“Whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of the team.”

“Not this.”

She clenched her jaw to keep from screaming. The pain from her injuries was nothing compared to the agony in her heart. “Get. Out. Now.”

He gave a single nod, stood, and walked out the door.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Hawke paced the bedroom, waiting for Olivia to emerge from the bathroom. Over the last two years, he’d had this conversation in his head a thousand times. He imagined hurling accusations at her, followed by an apology, and then, hell, maybe he’d grab her and kiss her, because, yeah, he was just that screwed up.

Except for a brief period of heaven after they’d first married, things with Olivia had always been complicated. With that first meeting, when they’d both been undercover on different ops, the chemistry had been immediate and off-the-charts electric. It had been a defining moment for him, though he hadn’t realized it at the time.

Their backgrounds couldn’t have been more different, but they’d both grown up hard. Her parents had been sociopaths who’d had no business having kids. His hadn’t been any better—he’d been the only child of a drug-addicted mother and an alcoholic father. Both he and his mother had been punching bags for his old man. After a lifetime of misery and one punch too many, she’d taken off. He’d been about seven at the time. He had become his father’s responsibility and his sole outlet for his fury. That had lasted until Hawke got big enough to defend himself. Then the brawls had begun. His old man had been quite the teacher in how to live the most miserable and useless life possible.

Even with all that, Hawke always thought he’d had it easier than Olivia. At least when his mother hadn’t been high on something, she had shown him affection. Her love had been careless and selfish, but at least it had existed. Olivia had never received that from either parent. If not for her grandmother, there was no telling what she might have become.

When he and Olivia had first realized their growing feelings for each other, they’d had plenty of heartfelt, soul-deep conversations. Their determination to never have children was one of the first things they had discussed. Neither of them had wanted the monumental task of being responsible for another human being, not with their past history.

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