Page 79 of Little Bird

“Hawk?” I pushed when he remained quiet.

“I’m so sorry, Wren.”

I felt a frown form on my face. “Sorry for what? What have you done now?” My stomach sank when he hesitated. Jesus Christ, what had he done? “Does this have something to do with where you got that cash for Bane from?”

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

Shaking my head, I told him, “It doesn’t matter. We’ll both get out of this.”

Fingers brushed against my cheek, and I jerked back. “Only one of us will get out of this alive,” he said, kissing me on the cheek. The heat of his body disappeared just as suddenly as it had appeared, and dread wrapped itself around my heart.

“Hawk?” I screamed. “Hawk!”

My words echoed around a room that sounded as if it was empty, the tears that were sitting unshed in my eyes finally falling free.

What the fuck had he done?

Why was I tied to a chair?

My tears turned into sobs that hurt me right down deep in my soul. Fear was my only friend now, and I did the only thing I could do. I clung to it.

* * *

I was awakened againwith a punch to the stomach. Pain made my vision blurry, the sound of my desperate breaths the only thing I could hear. Gasping in large lungfuls of air, I thrashed in my chair, trying to move my body and convince my lungs to get with the fucking program.

“Hold her steady,” said a man.

Hands were suddenly on my shoulders, pinning me back to the chair. I tensed, waiting for the next strike. Instead of intense pain, I blinked against the light of the room as my blindfold was removed. My eyes went straight to the man who looked like a poor imitation of Tony Soprano, his large belly tucked into a shirt that was straining against the buttons. His suit pants were loose, the cuffs pooling around a pair of cheap loafers.

My eyes flickered over to who was standing beside him next.

“Hawk?” I asked. What in the actual fuck was happening? He wouldn’t look at me. Instead, he kept his gaze locked on the concrete floor under his feet.

“Your brother works for me now,” the other man said. “Don’t you, Hawk?”

“Yes, sir,” he said softly.

Swallowing down on my dry throat, I demanded, “What have you done, you piece of shit?”

My brother finally looked at me, sorrow and regret passing over his face before quickly being replaced by cold indifference I’d never seen before. “I work for Sanderson. It’s how I got the money to pay Bane back.”

“Your brother has been quite useful, actually. He knew exactly where you’d be.”

I frowned. “What’s he talking about?”

Sanderson chuckled. “I’ve been trying to get Bane off my turf for over ten years. The bastard was locked down tight, though. There was nothing I could do to get to him until I started killing his dealers. That tripped him up, but it wasn’t enough. Neither was the cop I sent for his throat.” He strolled toward me, tipping my chin up so he could look into my eyes. “Until you, Wren. Until Hawk told me all about your arrangement with Rivera. That’s when I knew I had him.”

I glanced at my brother. “Bane told you?”

He nodded. “When you were at the hospital. He told me what you’d done to save my ass. He told me you were his to use for two weeks. He told me you agreed to whore yourself out to him. For me.”

Anger laced his words, but I think they were more reflective of his own self-loathing. “I couldn’t let you die,” I replied. “We stick together, right?”

My words brought out a glimpse of the young boy my brother used to be, the one who had looked up to me, who used to turn to me for protection. My role had never changed, but Hawk had grown into a man who managed to fuck up in the same ways he did when he was a dumb kid.

“When Hawk found out what you’d done, he came to me again. He wants to take Rivera down just as much as I do, so with his help, here we are.”

I blinked as anger filled my veins. I turned back to Hawk. “You did this.”

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