Page 22 of Hawke
“Why? So you can be all ‘I want you, baby,’ then leave her to cry about it for a few days until you come crawling back?”
I snarled fiercely, and she stepped back, her face whitening in fear. “Easy, Hawke,” she said, whispering. “She really doesn’t want to see you right now. You should give her a few days. She’ll come out when she’s ready.”
I didn’t want to wait for days. I didn’t want to wait another minute. But didn’t I deserve it? I’d told her I didn’t want her how many times? Yet she always took me back? What I’d said was unforgivable. She wanted space.
“Fine,” I spat. “I’ll be outside until she comes out.” I huffed and sat outside their apartment door.
I had all fucking day.
And I waited all day into the night and into the next day, but she never came out. I struggled to listen to her on the other side. It drove me mad, and it felt like a living death. How many times had I told her to get a cell phone, to take the ones I’d given to her all for her to push them back in my face?
She didn’t want to owe me anything.
Or maybe you made her feel like a slut.
I was so taken aback by the loud snarl coming from my wolf that my body reacted by toppling over from my sitting position.
The fuck was going on?
Using gifts as an apology was a dick move. My wolf paced, moving more and more inside me. He was clawing and howling, and the only way to sate him was to see Delilah. This had been the longest I’d gone without seeing her.
Because I’m a stalking bastard.
Hell, enough was enough.
I rose to my feet, grabbed my boot, and delivered a powerful kick that opened the door. It slammed to the other wall, leaving a door handle imprint in the plaster. I strode across the room, following Delilah’s sweet summer scent and wiggled the door handle.
“Open up, Dede, or I’ll break it down,” I yelled.
No answer, not even the sound of her squeak when she was startled. I let out an angry hiss as I stepped back, then proceeded to violently kick the locked door open to find the room in complete disarray.
Clothes I’d bought her were piled in the corner. Her bed wasn’t made. Pictures of us that hung on the wall were now on the floor. My fist tightened, picking up the most recent one of us. It was when I’d finally agreed to grow a mohawk. She was smiling, trying to spike my hair with some gods awful blue hair gel. I looked like a damn Smurf.
Where the fuck was SHE!?
I roared a mighty battle cry and flipped over the bed. The iron rod bed bent as it hit the floor. My claws elongated, ripping through the pillows, the blankets, and the stuffed animal I gave her when she first arrived. I paused, holding up the brown bear with a cheesy ass heart on it.
She was gone.
The wolf inside my head was becoming more and more persistent in its snarls, pushing forward until I stumbled. Whispers came from the door, my hearing becoming too much to bear. My senses heightened, my strength increasing; the blood running through my veins was filled with adrenaline so strong I feared I might lose control.
“Get out!” I roared, throwing her desk chair toward the door. The women and men who’d seen me as the calm enforcer of the bar stood back in terror. The men hurried the women out of the way as I glanced at the window I had climbed in and out of too many times to count.
It was open, the curtains swaying, letting in the chilly night air.
Instead of going through the building, I rushed to the window, climbing down the fire escape, and ran to the bar. If there is one person who would know where my Delilah was, it wasthathuman that told me to get my balls in order.
With a swift kick, I opened the door, the sound of my boot connecting with the weathered wooden planks echoing through the room. “Where is she?!” I yelled into the bar. Some flinched, but Anaki didn’t. He continued to wipe down the bar with the same dirty rag.
As I gazed over the bar, my eyes landed on Grim’s female. I tightened my fists, directing my anger toward her when I knew I shouldn’t. She had some damned crescent moon on her head which stirred questions, but I didn’t care about that right now. I needed my Delilah.
“You were the last to talk to her,” I mumbled.
As the thumping in my head intensified, I could feel my wolf’s mouth dripping with venom.
Grim stepped up, blocking his mate. He said something threatening, but all I could hear was my own beating, bloody heart. “Where is she?” I asked more desperately and turned to the rest of the bar. “Where is Delilah?”
Everyone stared, shrugging. Even Anaki shook his head when I glanced at him. “She hasn’t been in, man,” he said. “She’s always here, and I didn’t get two-weeks’ notice or nothing. Her roommates say her room is empty though.” Anaki’s voice wasn’t condescending or laced with malice toward me. He was sad, hell, everyone was.
