Page 26 of Hawk
“Who’s . . . who’s Hailey’s father?” he asked, and I lifted my eyes to him.
“Hailey is the sole living heir of Adrik Volkovs. I wouldn’t ever admit that to anyone but you, and I’ll do whatever I can to keep her as far away from the few remaining members of his family. They would use her for their personal gain, and it would destroy her in the process.”
“No one will ever hurt her again. Between Hatchet, you, me, Devlin, and the rest of the Death Hounds, she has a hundred protectors watching out for her. And I promise, I’ll never tell a living soul who her father is. But . . . what happens when she asks?”
I didn’t want to say it, but we were being honest with each other. “I’ll lie to her and anyone who asks. She never needs to know what kind of evil she was spawned from. I’d rather everyone think I was a whore before I’ll let her know about him. He’s a monster, and even though he’s dead, there are still those who would do his bidding, even from the grave.”
“So, no one knows she’s really his?”
I shook my head as I drained the last of my water. “I tried to tell my father, but he didn’t believe me. Adrik was so happy to have me back without the ‘bastard child’,” I explained using air quotes, “he tried and failed to get me pregnant again, so he beat me, saying I was defective. He wanted an heir to take over the throne, as he put it, but he had one and threw her away. He allowed his sister to abuse his daughter, so I never told him I had birth control implanted during our time apart. I let him beat me and call me horrible names, but I refused to bring another child of his into the world.”
It felt good to admit that to him and I could tell he was trying to control his rage the more I spoke. I never wanted anyone to know what I’d lived through, but Hawkins was in the house with Adrik and me for close to six months before he gave me the knife and my freedom. He saw, heard, and witnessed Adrik’s cruelty toward me, and I think that’s why he was treating me with kid gloves.
I wasn’t delicate like I used to be, but I was taped together, allowing some of the cracks to show. My emotions ran close to the surface, and I had a hard time trusting anyone, but I trusted him. He was the only person who ever treated me like I wasn’t damaged, even though I was. He gave me strength all those years ago, and I needed to have faith in him now.
“I know I’ve said it before, but I’m sorry you had to live through all that,” Hawkins admitted, and I didn’t know how to reply.
He saw things I never wanted anyone to see, and he never treated me differently because of them. He may have a past, like everyone does, but he wasn’t a bad man.
I needed to change the subject. “Tell me about yourself. How long have you been with the club?”
“I stumbled into Portstill about nine years ago with my ex-wife and found a home with the Death Hounds.” I felt my heart rate pick up at the mention of a wife, even an ex, but I learned long ago how to mask my emotions. I listened as he continued. “I have two amazing kids. Matthew is seven, and Anna is five. They make my life worth living, and I couldn’t imagine not having them.”
“You said ex-wife?” He nodded, so I asked, “What happened, if you don’t mind me being nosy?”
“You can ask me anything, I told you that.” He tilted his head toward the sky and closed his eyes briefly before leveling his gaze with mine. “The divorce was final about six months ago, and she gave up all rights to the kids. She would rather shack up with some dirtbag on the west coast than be a mother to her children. Good riddance, I say.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine someone willingly giving up their kids,” I admitted, and he lifted one cheek in a half-smile.
“She was a party girl who I tried to make a housewife. I should have known, but I got too caught up in all her false promises to see the kind of person she really was. From what I’ve heard from her estranged mother, she’s hooked on meth and killing herself slowly.”
“Do you have a good relationship with her mother?”
“She’s good with the kids and has never done anything that makes me think she’s anything but a loving grandmother. But she knows that if anything happens to the kids under her care, I’ll bury her where they’ll never find the body.”
“How often does she see them?” I didn’t know where the questions were coming from, but it was nice to learn about him, even if it was the painful parts.
“I have a little house down the street from her, and she watches them on the weekends while I work at the clubhouse and one of the prospects stands guard. I go for Sunday breakfast, so the kids have some semblance of family apart from the Death Hounds.”
“That’s nice you allow her to be a part of their life.”
“I just want what’s best for the kids. They don’t deserve to have a mother like they do, so the least I can do is keep them connected to the only other family they have.” He shrugged as he explained, and I could see the pain in his eyes as he told his story. “Besides, it’s not their fault their mother is a bitch.”
I giggled and replied, “We can’t help who we’re related to. Although, I wish we could.”
He chuckled as he reasoned, “You can’t choose blood, but you can decide who’s family. And once you’re a Death Hound, you’re family for life.”
My stomach grumbled and I remembered I’d hardly eaten in the last few days. I’d been so busy at work that food slipped my mind until I was too tired to get out of bed to eat. He looked at me and raised his eyebrows in an expectant manner, silently chastising me for the slip.
“How about we grab some lunch? I don’t know about you but I’m starving,” I admitted, and he stood from his chair.
Zeus joined us as I stood and turned toward the house. Normally, a man at my back would put me on edge, but I never feared Hawkins. If anything, having him so close was causing parts of me that I thought were dead long ago to wake up. As we entered the house, I heard my cell chime from the kitchen table.
Glancing over my shoulder, I walked to the table and picked it up to see who was messaging me.
I hope you’ve decided to meet Hailey. I know it would do both of you good to put the past where it belongs.
“Asshole,” I remarked as I typed a reply.
